#cowboy bebop x reader

[demigoddessqueens]

touch

Thinking of touch-starved men…, their eyes follow your hands and fingers so carefully, anxiously, getting easily jealous at how casual your touches are with others who are not them; always lingering where you are, seeking out your presence and just wanting a sliver of your attention away from everyone else; touch-starved ones who have a quiet gasp whenever you place your hands over theirs or just a casual friendly touch; chills along their spine and entire body as you play with their hair; hugs make them freeze in their tracks before arms tentatively wrap around you like your made of glass or a stardust that will vanish the second it’s over

EDIT: they can’t help but swallow down their moan(s) when your fingers brush through their hair, lightly touching the exposed back of their neck

Just….touch starved characters…

[manias-wordcount]

Can I request a fic where the reader would kiss Spike (Spiegel) every time they caught him smoking? even just holding it up is enough for the reader to give him a peck and stroll away with the cigarette they stole. P.s I love the way you write sm, you're my idol when it comes to writing<3

Cigarettes for Kisses (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗺𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝘂𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗶 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆! 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @abellaheart-blog

𝙒𝙖𝙣���� 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

By the fourth time, he knew what you were doing. But by the fifth, he was more than ready.

He had suspected something up the third time you came around and pulled the same routine. At the time, he couldn’t put his finger on it. He couldn’t describe it. He was too wrapped up to really think about it until much, much later. Because the change was sudden. But not unwanted. Moreso desired than anything. But it was a change. A change that left him a little curious and a little breathless and a little lost in the following moments. Just long enough for you to saunter away with that swing in your hips that makes it impossible to be mad at you. Just long enough to make him realize that he’s down one cigarette and yet up one kiss. 

But he began to put together the pieces by the third time. And by the fourth time, he was able to pick apart your pattern and discern all the pieces. Then by the fifth time he tried to pull a cigarette out in front of you in the past three days, he made sure to wait until he could see you coming down the hall. And the second he knew you were close enough, he was shuffling one out of the box and leaning back into the couch. He made sure to take his sweet, sweet time with the lighter. Going nice and slow so he could drink you in in case you got close. And the second you saw him flick his lighter and the flame appear, you did. You got in close. Real close.

While Spike held the flame to the end of his cigarette, you walked up to him and went to the side of the couch like you were ready to watch whoever was going to show up on Big Shots right after the commercials started airing. Then just as he predicted, you didn’t go to sit down beside him. In fact, you didn’t sit down at all. Rather, you leaned down just as he got the flame that he needed. And you smiled at him- all soft and sweet as he took a drag and slipped his lighter back into his pants pocket.

And like clockwork, you went for his lips as he began to dispel the smoke he pulled into his lungs. And like clockwork, he let you.

He closed his eyes as your lips pressed against his. You start off slow and romantic because you’ve always been a little minx and nobody could tell him otherwise. But your kisses taste so sweet that he didn’t mind letting you take the lead. He didn’t mind letting your hands trail up his chest and shoulders and neck and face either. And he certainly didn’t mind letting your tongue brush against his as you worked on deepening the kiss.

But he wasn’t going to let you away with everything. He’s captured by you, sure. He’d kiss you all day if you’d let him.  But he won’t let you get the jump on him anymore than you already have. At least, not without getting a little bit of his own fun, of course.

So he was quickly about pulling a sleight of hand trick to move his lit cigarette between a different pair of fingers just as you began discreetly searching for it. And he relished in the soft sound of confusion that spilled from your mouth as your fingers reached out only to find nothing where they would usually find something. And when you pulled away to look for it, eyebrows all furrowed and that cute pout on your lips?

Well, he brought you back in for another kiss, of course. Only this time, he tugged you into his lap and pulled you nice and close. He swallowed up your yelp of surprise with his mouth as he kissed you harder than he even had before. And although you squirmed at first, you quickly found that the arm that he had wrapped around your waist and had just settled right on the curve on your backside wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Because you fit perfectly there. So perfectly that he couldn’t help but hold you tighter in hopes that it would cause another soft sound to be pulled from your pretty little mouth.

But you make out for a while. Probably far too long for the two of you to be in such an open, public spot in the Bebop but he couldn’t care less about that. It’s sloppy, heavy, and somehow all too sweet in its own way. Sometimes, he lets you take the lead. Sometimes, he lets your tongue do all the exploring if it means you’re good for him just a little while longer. Other times, he is too busy stealing the air from your lungs and nibbling at your bottom lip because he knows that’s what gets you to tighten your grip on his clothes and lean into him the way he likes it.

Soon enough though, he does have to let you go up for air. He’s better at holding his breath compared to you, and something about tilting your head back when he gets to kiss you and holding your body against his has him feeling just a little more breathless than he would have originally thought. But you? The pretty little thing settled in his lap right now? Well, you look a lot more flustered than he does, at least. And that was the goal all along. 

Catch you off guard. Kiss you the way he wants to. And enjoy you like the little tease you are. 

“If you wanna bum a smoke off of me, you could just ask,” He remarks with a half-smirk playing at his lips. You frown and puff out your cheeks with a huff. Frustration dances around in your eyes as you realize you’ve been all figured out and there’s nothing you can do about it. But you’re quick to perk up as he brings the cigarette lit cigarette to your lips and lets you take a drag. “S’long as you don’t run away afterward.”

You don’t respond at first- too busy inhaling the smoke with a pleased look on your face. And he can’t help but smile as he watches. It’s no wonder he let you get the jump on him four times before this. It’s cute. Or rather, you’re cute about it. You clearly haven’t been smoking for as long as he has, but you’re settling into the taste of nicotine quite nicely. It subdues you. Sweetens you up and softens you out in a way Spike couldn’t help but wish that only his kisses could do.

But then you laugh and you smile as you look at him and suddenly he’s just calling himself lucky to be the sole witness of this.

Still, it’s not fair. He was itching for a smoke. He was itching for his smoke. After all, you haven’t been letting him have his way all the time. You’ve been stopping him from getting his fill from the past four cigarettes you’ve successfully slipped out of his fingers. But now that he’s watching you smoke cigarette number five in his lap like you were meant to be there, part of him wonders if you’ll end up being the reason he quits one day. Not because he wants to. No, because he knows he should. 

“Hmmm…no promises~”

But because the thought of trading every cigarette he’ll ever smoke with another one of your kisses is a little more tempting than he’d like to admit.

[amphibiahawks321]

A Faye Valentine (CB 1998) x Male Reader, please?

[Faye placed a hand on the wall near Y/N's head and leans forward with a smirk with a playful glint in her eyes]

Faye : Chuckles... You know, you're so adorable when you get all flustered you know that?~

[Y/N starts blushing and glanced the other away]

M!Reader blushing : Sighs... I'm not flustered... I just... Not used to someone like you Faye...

[Faye let out a soft laugh putting a finger on Y/N's chin and makes him look at her]

Faye : Someone like me you say? Charming? Flirty? Irresistible?~

M!Reader blushing : ......

M!Reader blushing : A combination of the three with "reckless".... But yes....

Faye : Chuckles... Good answer baby~

[withlove-xixi]

— LACE LATTICE LULLABY: spike spiegel x reader

KINKTOBER DAY TEN: LINGERIE ᥫ cw: nsfw, lingere, blood/injury mention ᥫ wc: 1019 ★ never posting for this guy again ever because i hate him i hate him he is my arch nemesis and i want him dead (he is my all time favorite husband wawa he makes me light headed and gives me a stomach ache and i hate him) cross posted on ao3 — MINORS DNI! —

— YOU WERE JUST FULL OF SURPRISES WEREN’T YOU?

[♡]: spike hates surprises. what? half the time they were stressful, more than anything. they ruined his good mood and only ever made his bad moods worse. and you? you were full of surprises. honestly, the way you’ve wound spike so tightly around your finger is surprise enough. hell, if anything, it’s the most surprising thing you’ve done! but every now and then, you try to outdo yourself, whether you know it or not.

GOD, TODAY WAS SHIT.

It had started off shit, from the moment he woke up and slipped on some unfolded dirty laundry and hit his head against the ground to the moment Ein jumped on his lap causing him to spill hot coffee all over himself. Faye made sure to remind him of the incidents throughout their day together chasing after a decent bounty, making sure to rub into his face how today was just not his day. Especially when he had nearly crashed the Swordfish II into a building after failing to maneuver away from a flock of birds or when a car had hit him when they had chased the bounty on foot or when a door had suddenly flung open and whacked him directly in the face. At least someone was having a good time.

And after all that trouble, they had lost the bounty. One of Spike’s many misfortunes had caused them to get too far ahead for them to chase and hide within a crowded marketplace. And despite going through almost half the trouble, Faye was still gleefully giggling about everything, going as far as calling Spike on their comms to tease him about it, because as much as her day was bad, Spike was definitely having a far worse one. Needless to say, the flight back home to the Bebop was excruciatingly torturous.

Every bone in Spike’s exhausted body screamed and pleaded for rest, begged to lay on his old mattress and sleep for the next two days. His muscles ached and his wounds seared in pain at every moment, every step that took him closer to his room. Though his room was in a sorry state (perhaps in an even worse one than Spike was), it was far more favorable to sleep away his aches than to be awake even a second longer to feel every ounce of pain that surged through his body.

He was grateful at least that Jet hadn’t found out yet that he and Faye had lost the bounty, otherwise he’d be getting an hour-long earful of a lecture on how little funds they had left and how much they needed if they wanted to have a decent next meal. And at least Ed and Ein didn’t crowd on him too much for stories or souvenirs or other such antics, though he was half-certain the pissed off look on his face was enough to care the two away for even a couple of hours. Because really, at the end of a terribly shitty day, all Spike wanted to do was sleep or drink his troubles away. And the Bebop had recently run out of its supply of alcohol (he knows because he was the one to have depleted it), sleep was the best option. He could get some decent shut-eye before he had to get up for a disappointing dinner and to be patched up for his wounds.

With a groan he slides open the door to his room, a brief moment of relief washing over him when he’s met with the familiar sight of a messy, dimly lit, cramped bedroom. Briefly because as soon as he swings the door open, he’s punted in the face with something forceful and soft. Spike lets the pillow thud onto the ground, his body going rigid partly because he was so desperately trying to keep his cool and because, again, several times today he had been hit in the face, he’s pretty sure his nose was somewhat broken and he’s certain that a pillow to the face was only going to make the pain sting a bit longer.

You fail to notice the tired expression on his face or the dried up blood or his tattered clothes when you sit up on his bed and begin lecturing him, and honestly, he’s a bit too tired to register what you’re saying. Something, something, what took you so long, something, something, it was freezing. He only sighs deeply as you get up, he assumes to supposedly jut your nagging finger at his chest, but he watches as you suddenly freeze and your expression changes almost instantaneously.

Suddenly you’re nearly crying, hurriedly and panickedly yelling apologies and gingerly running your hands over his wounds. “What the hell happened to you?” You cry out, your frustrated tone long shifted into one of pure worry and concern. “Oh my God, I am so sorry. I didn’t know— I-I didn’t mean to yell at you—”

He lets you run your mouthful of apologies, sighing through his nose as his hands find purchase in your hips. Spike was meant to rub circles onto your skin, a way to calm you down and soothe himself of his worries, but his hands feel something unfamiliar, the tips of his fingers brushing against something soft and thin. He spares a perplexed glance down at you as you’re rambling away on how you were going to patch him up as soon as possible, and his eyes widen almost instinctively at what you’re wearing.

It’s some thin thing that barely covers your body, a pretty, little, lacey black number that graces your skin so beautifully Spike’s body instantly tenses at the sight, which only causes you to panic really because suddenly he’s stiff as a board. His mouth hangs ajar, saliva pooling inside it and threatening to drip down the corners of his lips.

“Sp-spike? What’s wrong? Does something hurt? Are you—”

Words die in your throat when you feel his fingers play at the hem of your lingerie, boldly tracing against the patterns of the lace with an almost feather-light touch. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers slowly dip beneath the fabric, wedging them snugly against the garter and your flesh. He leans down, against your ear and he can’t even form the words to speak to you so he pants heavily into the shell of your ear. Spike’s quickly rewarded with a soft whimper from your lips.

“Spike…” Your voice is like heaven, so needy and quiet like it were something sacred.

Today was worth all the trouble.

[spikesbunny]

MOON ANON RETURNS MWUAHAHAH anyways haiii I hope you're doing well :33

i return with requests....... soft n sweet gf like before (i know it's repetitive don't @ me) but. Soft n sweet gf that wants to be tough like those around her but just kinda isn't-- she asks s/o's to train her and gets upset that she isn't as strong as they are but they reassure her and tell her it's OK, her strengths lie elsewhere

Im thinking...... this with Spike but also also. Arlecchino. I have a big fat crush on them both I know it's multifandom but aaaa 😭😭

-🌙

+ wc: 0.3k

+ ft: spike spiegel & arlecchino (separate!)

+ note: WELCOME BACK 🌙ANON!! i'm doing pretty good actually, and i hope you are too 🫶 also omg do not worry about bein repetitive, i loveee soft n' sweet gf as much as you do <33

spike is the type to try and coach you physically. he'll invite you to train with him, starting slowly, before building up time and endurance.

he knows you wish you could contribute more, and be more helpful on missions than simply babysit ed and ein, and he wants to help you out.

he'll show you how to shoot, how to punch and kick, and even self defense methods. but he knows it's hard for you, trying to learn such physical and draining skills quickly.

so he paces you, building each skill brick by brick, piece by piece.

and he knows you get overwhelmed and upset if you aren't as successful as him, or learn as quickly as you wish. so he's gentle with you. a small reassuring kiss her, a soothing back rub to let you know that it's fine, it'll take some time. he even offers to massage your sore and achy muscles.

arlecchino, on the other hand, is more on mental toughness. working with the fauti isn't just physically draining, it's mentally exhausting. the constant bickering, the petty arguments, and the bullshit each member gives.

she'll teach you her methods to push them out of her brain, to dull their voices. give you tips on concentrating more on you than them. she'll provide you different ways to calm yourself down after getting into a dispute with them, knowing you start to blame yourself.

and she knows, she knows how you wish you could be as mentally strong as her. and she promises to help you.

and even if her techniques don't click right away, you try your best. and she knows you do, and she's always there during the conferences, reassuringly rubbing your thigh or squeezing your hand under the table.

she may not seem like a big one on physical affection, but for you, she didn't mind showing some hidden displays.

and even though her words weren't as sugar coated as most would, you knew she genuinely cared behind each riddling compliment and praise.

©2024 spikesbunny - please do not repost or translate my works on other media sites ♡

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

❥ quick lil fic for Spike Spiegel my beloved ❥ ft. dancing, a little drinking, a lot of flirting ❥ now playing: Messages from the Stars - The Rah Band

He moved with an easy grace, embodying the music in a way you wouldn’t have guessed from his lanky frame and rumpled suit. The flashing club lights gilded his dark curls and dripped down his sharp limbs. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. 

A sheen of sweat glued his dress shirt to his muscled chest, his eyes thankfully closed as you stared shamelessly. You had been nursing a drink for the last hour since your friends had gone home with conquests early on. It seemed that your patience had been worth it, though you wondered how you hadn’t noticed the gorgeous stranger sooner.

You slammed down the rest of your glass and hopped off the bar stool in a burst of courage, shouldering your way through the swaying mass of people out to forget about their problems with a little music and a lot of alcohol. You wove your way to the edge of the dance floor, claiming a spot just beside the tall man as you began to dance on your own. 

The DJ was better than usual, spinning something deep and synthy that rattled your spine. You let the rhythm sweep you up, swinging your hips and sliding your hands along your chest and waist as you tried to catch his eye. Up close, you could see the wrinkles in his dark blue suit, a wide collar narrowing into the too-thin tie around his neck. It fit tightly around his shoulders, straining a little in a way that made you anxious to see what he looked like beneath the sweaty yellow button-down. 

“Just planning on staring all night, or are ya gonna come talk to me?” The cocky voice came from the man beside you. He took a slow glance up and down your body, winking when his eyes landed back on your flushed face. 

“I wasn’t staring!” You protested lamely.

“Sure, sure. It’s my personal policy not to argue with a pretty lady,” he smirked, hands up in mock surrender. The gesture only made you realize how long his fingers were, the strength in his calloused hands... Fuck, you were staring again.

“My eyes are up here,” he teased. “And the name’s Spike.” 

“Funny name.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “I’m a funny guy.” 

“Is that right?” You tried to slip an edge into your voice but all that came out was a tease. And he seemed to like it, judging by the way he danced closer, all sharp angles and smooth smiles.

“Yeah, that’s right.” He didn’t crowd you, just grinned down behind that dark green halo of strobe-lit hair. “You here on your own?”

“My friends found distractions already.” You shrug, trying to match his nonchalance.

“My bad. I should’ve asked, are you seeing anyone?” He paused, laughed a little before correcting himself again. “Lemme be specific. Are you seeing anyone who’d try to kick my ass if I danced with ya?”

“Are you asking me to dance, Spiky?”

“Are you saying yes?” He closed the gap between your bodies and hovered his hands over your waist, bending to whisper against your ear. “And it’s Spike.”

“Okay, Spike,” you murmured back, a little dizzy from the closeness of him, the heat of his breath on your skin. “Let’s dance.”

His big hands settled on your waist, heavy and grounding. The song changed almost as if he’d cued it, and his grin widened as he twirled you out to arm’s length before spinning you back against his chest.

The hi-hat settled in his hips. Each beat hit somewhere in his body, passed down along his arms and legs in fluid motions. He pulled you along with him, swept up in the tide of his dancing.

“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” You asked, leaning close to be heard over the music. His laughter spilled like soda, bubbly and sticky-sweet. You felt it more than heard it, pouring down your spine.

“Everybody can dance, doll. But not everybody does.”

He had you then, even if he didn’t know it yet. You were caught up in the rhythm of him, the rumpled sexiness of his devil-may-care attitude, the sparks that lit up the dingy club when your bodies touched.

You were proud that you could keep up with him, the effort of it making your cheeks flush. You slunk around him, matching his moves with ones of your own that brought you ever-closer, your hand slipping down his chest, your ass pressed against his waist as you dropped to the floor and climbed back up.

Spike followed your lead, touching only where you had invited him to. His eyes flashed as you pressed up against him with a knowing smile. He smirked, made no effort to hide the effect you had on him, his hands eagerly mapping each new territory you opened on your body. By the time the dance ended you were entwined.

In a surge of confidence, endorphins and alcohol swirling in your gut, you curled your fingers around his lapels and tugged him in for a breathless kiss. He returned it instantly, his lips soft and yielding against yours. You felt him smile as you nipped at his bottom lip before breaking away.

He smiled crookedly, running a hand through his unruly hair. “You’re something.”

“Something good, I hope.” He nodded confidently.

“Very good. Hey, do you smoke?” He stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t, but I’d watch you do it.”

Spike laughed. “Cute answer.” He took your hand and led you off the floor and out a side door. You thought for one wild moment that you would’ve followed him anywhere.

The night was clear and cold. It sobered you a little, your ears still ringing with the aftermath of the music. He let you go and leaned against the wall to fish a crumpled box of cigarettes from his pocket. He began patting his chest and thighs for a lighter but came up empty.

You watched for a bit, entertained, then caved and pulled a lighter from your purse. “Use mine.”

“Thought ya didn’t smoke?”

“I don’t. But sometimes someone needs a light.”

He smiled slowly, then shook his head. “I’m glad I’m the one who gets it tonight.” He watched you from under his eyelashes as he tapped out a cig.

You clicked on the lighter but didn’t move closer. The smile seemed permanently stuck to his face as Spike leaned closer, forced to bend over your outstretched hand to catch the flame. He sucked in, the tip of his cigarette a flickering orange moth.

“How does it taste?” He gave it some thought, the span of a few more exhales into the dark.

“Terrible,” he said finally. “But it takes the edge off.”

“Do you have much of an edge?”

His lips curled like the smoke. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” His voice was harsher out here, raspy and low, but his eyes were softer. You let his words linger and dissipate under the stars.

“Can I have a taste?”

He wrinkled his nose and waved you off, tongue-in-cheek disapproving. “No way. Not if you’ve never done it before, don’t want ya blaming me when you get hooked. Kills the mood.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Hm? Mmphh…!” You don’t give him time to process your words before you’re kissing him again, pinning him back against the wall. His eyes go wide, his fingers flex, then both close tight as he melts into you. The cig falls forgotten to the concrete.

Spike curls into you, holding your icy cheeks in his warm palms as he kisses you back passionately. You taste the cigarette on his lips, but it’s drowned out by something deeper, then washed away entirely when he slips his tongue into your mouth. He swallows your moans, holds you up when your knees buckle at the way he teases you, pulling away to kiss the corners of your mouth before diving back in deep.

He’s stronger than you but pretends not to be, happy to let you hold him down on the wall, your fingers tangled in his hair. He spreads his legs, letting you move between them to press against his growing hardness.

Spike’s hands are restless, moving from your cheeks to your shoulders to the small of your back, molding you to his shape. He breaks first, breathing hard with his forehead pressed to yours. He crushes the smoldering cigarette under his heel.

The stars are even closer when you open your eyes, drawn in by the gravity between you and Spike. They gather like they want to hear a secret, and when his kiss-bitten lips find your ear, murmuring an invitation or a promise, they blush with you.

[illegal-spiegel]

ꜱᴏʀᴇ ʟᴏꜱᴇʀ

ꜱᴘɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴘɪᴇɢᴇʟ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ꜱᴍᴜᴛ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜱᴘɪᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴅʀʏ ʜᴜᴍᴘɪɴɢ, ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴅᴀ ɴᴀꜱᴛʏ ᴏɴ ᴀ ɢʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴍᴀᴛ ʟᴍᴀᴏ, ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴇx?, ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ??, ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Spike leans against the doorway as he watches you, a secret, fond smile on his lips. You’re in nothing but a navy blue bra and a matching pair of shorts, but his eyes are trained on the way your hands are moving. You’re up on your tippy-toes moving around the mat, your hands protected by the black kumpur as you lay consecutive, hard hits to the punching bag. He lets out an inaudible hum when you start doing jab crosses followed by some lead teeps. He has to admit, he’s impressed by how far you’ve come with your fighting abilities since he first met you. 

After watching you for a couple of minutes, you drop your hands and grab the punching bag to stop it from swinging around. Your chest rises and falls with your labored breathing, and who can really blame Spike for staring, especially since you’re just letting sweat bead down your neck and letting it go down the valley of your breasts. 

“Need something, Spiegel?” you suddenly call out, shocking him from his staring contest with your breasts. He looks up to your eyes to find you smirking at him, making him smirk right back with a hum. 

“Yeah. Let’s go. You and me, one on one. Mano y mano,” he says as he steps further into the room, walking towards the dueling mat. You raise a brow at this, starting to remove your kumpur as you follow him in the direction of the mat. 

“What, seriously? You never want to fight me,” you reply, voice laced with suspicion. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his brow cocking up while a smirk starts to crawl across his face. 

“Well, now I do. I was scared of hurting you before, but now I know that you can take me,” he replies, stopping in the middle of the mat and starting to undo the buttons of his coat. You stop at the edge of the mat, placing your hands onto your hips after you place the kumpur onto the chair by the mat, which is where you normally sit while he spars with someone else. 

“You should’ve known for months that I’m capable of that. You’ve seen me take down people twice my size,” you reply, your tone becoming exasperated and your arms crossing over your chest now as you stare him down. 

“‘Nough chit-chat. More fighting,” he says as he spins to face you, tossing his coat onto the chair with annoyingly perfect precision. 

“Fine. Have it your way,” you grumble, walking towards him. His smirk only gets bigger as you grow closer. He’s not only happy that you agreed but he’s also glad that he was able to irk you. Maybe that’ll throw you off your game. 

You two start circling each other, both of you studying the other and debating if you should attack first or not. You know Spike is good at defense, so you decide to go on the defensive and let him attack first. And, just like he taught you, you avoid his punch with fluid movements and watch his fist whiz past your face. Your eyes flit to his with a smirk before you’re landing an uppercut to his chin.

He staggers back a step before catching himself, using that momentum to lift his other foot and swing it toward you. You duck under his leg easily but miss the punch he lands on your cheek right after. You grunt and reel back from it, quickly stepping further away when he comes back for another punch with the opposite hand. He tries to land six more punches before you finally go back onto the offensive. You grab ahold of his arm after his last attempt at punching you, tugging him towards your side and using your other arm to jab him in the gut with your elbow. This hit causes him to grunt and fall backward, swaying as he tries to find his footing. 

While he’s caught off guard, you swiftly rush towards him and swipe his feet out from underneath him. He gasps as he flies towards the ground, landing with a loud thud and an even louder grunt. You’re quick to crawl on top of him and pin him down, but he’s not going down that easily. He flips you as soon as you lift one leg to get higher above him, making you gasp when he flips you onto your back. Just like him though, you’re not going down without a fight. 

He smirks down at you as he pins your arms, sweat beading on his forehead. “One...two...” he starts to mockingly count, making you squint your eyes up at him. Before he can get to three though, you lift your hips up and throw him up above your body. He grunts as his face makes impact with the floor, letting go of your wrists to quickly push himself back up onto his hands to regain some balance.

With your arms now free, you wrap your arms around his torso, tucking yourself tight against his chest as you pull yourself up his body a bit, hearing the hammering of his heart for a second. Wrapping your left arm around his right, you tuck the arm into his side, causing him to lose his balance completely. With no arm holding him up, he topples over to his right, letting you use that momentum to roll back on top of him. 

With you in control again, your legs pin his thighs down while your hands hastily pin his down just like how he had done to you. He pants as he stares up at you, the sweat on his forehead sliding back towards his hairline. You smirk when he doesn’t try to throw you off, impressed with that last move you did. He’s never seen something like that before, even after all these years of fighting. 

“I win,” you boast after counting to three, letting go of his wrists and sitting back. You swipe at your forehead when you feel the sweat there threatening to fall down your face, your chest heaving with each breath you take as you try to regain oxygen back into your desperate lungs. Just as you’re about to get off of Spike though, you feel something. It has your body completely freezing as you assess what it is. 

“Is that your gun I’m feeling or are you unusually excited about losing?” you promptly ask, unsure of which one you want it to be. You can feel a newfound heat spreading through your body though, that being a telltale for your brain to know what it wants the answer to be. You blame the fact that you’re up in space and only stop on planets for bounties. No one on this goddamn starship has gotten laid in months because they’ve been so busy. 

“What can I say? I love the kind of woman that can kick my ass.” 

Your jaw drops open a bit at his words, your cheeks getting hotter when you see his eyes are heavy-lidded and clouded with lust. “What?” you breathe, suddenly finding it hard to speak. Instead of verbally replying to you though, he grabs the back of your neck and tugs you down for a kiss. Despite the initial shock of being kissed by the self-proclaimed ‘woman hater,' you quickly melt into the kiss. The kiss is immediately one full of passion, desperation, and need. As you explore the other’s mouth, your teeth clack against each other rather painfully every so often, but neither of you pulls away from the messy kiss, even as drool starts to slide down Spike’s cheek.

It may be messy, but it’s probably the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

Well, that is until he flips you over again just like he had done earlier, and you almost whine when he doesn’t instantly go back to kissing you. He smirks at the wretched look etched across your face, using the back of his hand to wipe the spit off his face as he studies you, almost as if he were trying to figure out just what he should do with you. “Open up,” he suddenly directs, grabbing your cheeks with one hand to hold your face in place for him. Without hesitation you comply, parting your lips eagerly for him, eyes locked on his as you gaze up out from under him. A devilish grin stretches across his face at your willingness to follow his order without question, and he leans down, his face moving to hover over yours. And before you can even realize what he’s doing, he’s spitting into your mouth. 

You make a muffled noise in confusion, trying to process the fact that he had just spat into your mouth, treating you as if you were nothing more than the scum beneath his feet. You know that you should be more than beyond pissed, to push him off of you and storm up right from out of there. And yet despite that, you can’t help the way his downright filthy and untamed behavior manages to turn you on. 

“There. Now we’re even,” he says softly between pants, a devilish smirk on his face. He’s then surging forward, reconnecting your lips with his for another desperate kiss, during which you can’t help but moan between the gasps of air you take. Your noises only grow more frequent and louder in volume as he starts grinding against you teasingly. Though neither of you has removed any clothes, you can still feel just how much he has to offer, and the thought alone excites you. His hands roam your bare thighs, going from there up to your bare midriff. 

“God, you’re so fucking sexy. I’ve wanted to do this ever since your dumbass walked onto the Bebop,” Spike admits through a groan after pulling away from the kiss, letting his head drop forward a bit as he grinds against you harder. 

“Then stop wasting time,” you hiss, spreading your legs further for him. He chuckles lowly and tilts his head to look back up at you, wearing his usual smirk on his lips. 

“Beg for it,” he commands, his voice sounding so deep that it sounds downright sinister, especially with that demand. 

“No,” you grit out, trying to keep your hips from gravitating up towards his warm body to his hard cock that he’s refusing to give you. You weren’t going to stoop that low for him and you decided that you would keep your pride till the very end. He raises a brow at your denial, pulling away to lean back on his knees, looking down at you as his fingers move to knock against your chin to tilt your head up towards him. 

“No? Hm, okay,” he replies all too calmly, making your skin tingle with the possibilities of what he’s planning. You gasp when he unexpectedly forces two fingers past your lips and into your mouth, your moan being stopped by his fingers. His fingers taste salty, like sweat, and despite the fact it’s a little gross, you’re loving it all the same. Your eyes flutter up at him, his watching you with supposed disinterest. 

You know better though. 

You’re able to read him like a book now. His face appears blank and impartial, but it’s the little things that give him away. The way his eyes stare transfixed at how your lips suck him in, the way his chest rises and falls faster and faster each time you rove your tongue against his fingers, the way his pants are getting tighter and his hips jump up slightly anytime you give his digits a harsh suck. He can try all he wants to hide how he’s really feeling, but you know him more than he likes to admit. 

He lets out a groan when you reach up and bring another one of his fingers into your mouth, his head falling back as he thrusts his hips down against yours. You mewl at the friction that’s returned, sucking hard on his fingers and rubbing your tongue against his fingers faster. 

You whimper around his digits when his free hand suddenly comes down and rubs you through your shorts. Your legs part further for him yet again, craving for more of his touch on your throbbing cunt. He chuckles when he sees this, using that hand to slide your shorts down. 

He manically grins when he finds that you’re not wearing panties, his eyes trained on your wet pussy. “No panties, hm?” he teases, starting to stroke his fingers up from your dripping hole to your swollen clit. “You were over here training with no panties on like a true slut, weren’t ya?” he coos, slipping a single finger in. It feels good, but it's nowhere near enough to get you off and he knows that. 

“You sure you don’t wanna beg, baby? This pretty pussy here looks quite desperate for my cock,” he purrs, rubbing his thumb across your clit with his other hand. You shake your head, your breathing starting to become as labored as when you were fighting. “Still no? Alright then.”

He slips his finger out of you as well as removes his thumb from your clit. You whine before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t go unheard. “Last chance, love. Beg for it,” he growls, squinting his eyes down at you. 

“No,” you growl right back, glaring up at him in defiance.

“Fine,” he grunts out. “You can take care of it yourself since you want to act like such a damn brat.” And with that he pulls away from your touch completely, bringing himself back to his feet as he dusts himself off and turns to walk away from your disheveled form on the ground and walking towards the exit.

Another thing that comes with knowing how to read someone like a book is knowing when they’re bluffing right through their teeth to get what they want out of you. So, naturally, you call him out on his bluff. 

Pushing yourself up by your elbows, you smirk back up at him mischievously. “What is it, Spiegel? Trying to run away from a fight that you started with your tail between your legs? Seems a bit cowardly, doncha think?” you taunt. 

And just like that, he’s stopping in his tracks. 

“You really don’t know when to keep that mouth of yours shut, do you?” He replies cooly, swiftly walking back over to you and using his heel to push at your shoulder to force you back to the ground. The force of his actions knocks the wind out of you for a moment, but you’re quick to recover. 

“Ah, but you love this mouth of mine, don’t you? So much so that you’ve been wanting to take me ever since—what was it?—that I walked onto the Bebop? Seems like you like me a bit more than you try to let on,” you reply with a shit-eating grin. He huffs and shoves his foot off of you before standing in a lazy stance in front of you, his shoulders slouched as he pockets his hands. 

“I’m not gonna help you get you off anymore if that’s what you’re going for,” he says lowly, trying to act as if he’s unbothered by it all. You clench your jaw at his words despite knowing that he wants nothing more than to jump your bones right now. He’s just too stubborn to admit it and to give in to his desires. Well, two can play at that game. You’re just as stubborn as he is, if not more so. 

“Fine. Feel free to see yourself out then,” you sass, spreading your legs to show your naked core. His eyes immediately flicker down to your drooling cunt, his tongue coming out to wet his lips. Your own lips quirk up into a smirk, your hand lowering down to your heat with a hum. Once your hand starts to flick your swollen clit, your clenching hole oozes more of your arousal. “Ah, fuck,” you moan dramatically, wanting to egg Spike on further. You watch his hands clench by his side, his jaw clamping shut as he tries to convince himself to walk away to win this fight. 

“Will you cut it out? Jet or Faye could walk in at any minute!” he hisses, going as far as to kick his foot out to lightly nudge you. 

“Yeah? How come it was okay for you to do this to me, but now it’s a problem? Hm?” you start, dipping two of your fingers into your hole with a pornographic moan. “Scared they might see what you think is yours? Hm? You think Jet or Faye wants to touch me this way? Wh-” 

Before you can even blink, he’s hovering over you again with one hand tugging your fingers out of your squelching hole while the other is pulling your hair harshly. You let out a groan of pain, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment.

“Listen here, slut. This pussy is mine and if you even think for a goddamn second that I would let them-” He stops talking when you start giggling, causing his face to only scrunch up further in anger. He realizes then that you were just egging him on, trying to get him to snap and spill the truth. “You’re going to wish you had just begged,” he says in between staggered breaths, his body becoming an inferno with newfound heat and lust. 

“Challenge accepted,” you breathe out before his lips crash against yours. His teeth gnaw at your lip and he forces his tongue into your mouth, his fingers hooking inside of your cunt to hit that spongey spot every single time. You moan into the kiss, your hips thrusting up a bit to meet his fingers’ thrust. 

And only a few minutes later, you’re cumming. Jesus, he really knows what he’s doing with those fingers. You pull away from the kiss, whining when he continues to finger fuck you. “Spike,” you stutter out, grabbing his wrist to try and get him to stop or at least slow down. 

“What?” he growls, his eyes watching as he continues to finger-bang you. 

“I’m sensitive, stop,” you whine. You and he know good and well that if you really wanted him to stop, you could force him to stop. You like that you have no control over him though, no control over your own body. 

“Cry about it,” he bites back, glaring down a you. You groan as he continues to use his fingers on you, trying to draw another orgasm out of you. Your eyes roll back into your head, your legs clamping down around his arm to yet again try to stop him. 

You see your mistake now. Maybe you really should have just asked nicely for his cock. Because now, he’s just going to keep making you cum in any and every way he knows how until he’s satisfied. 

When you start getting close to your second orgasm, you look up at him again to find him evilly grinning down at you. “Yeah, take it like the slut you are,” he coos, moving his fingers deeper inside of you. You cry out as your orgasm slams into you, your body quaking beneath him. 

You gasp in relief when he rips his fingers out of you, watching as he stares at his fingers in mock disgust as he makes a scissoring motion in the air. “You’re fucking soaked…” he comments, seemingly more so to himself than to you as he watches your cum stick to his fingers as he pulls them apart before pushing them back together to repeat the action. 

His eyes suddenly flicker to you, a sadistic smile on his face. “Ready for the real thing, slut?” he taunts as he unzips his pants and pulls his dick out. Your eyes shift down and bulge at the sight of it. His cock is veiny and sits heavy in his hand, the tip reaching way past where he holds it at the base. His eyes are lidded as he swipes the head through your cum that’s still dribbling out of your cunt. 

“Be a good girl and take it,” he whispers just before pushing it into the base. 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ☆ .⋅} ────── ⊰

MASTERLIST

More with Spike Spiegel

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⊱ ────── {⋅. ☆ .⋅} ────── ⊰

[tonberry-yoda]

Spaced Out - Spike Spiegel

notes - I watched cowboy bebop and found my type in spike spiegel. i need him carnally, so i thought i'd start with something fluffy for now before it gets angsty. plus ive been cleaning all day and needed to take a little break. I think I for sure want to do a part II, so let me know if you wanna be tagged in it <3 word count - 1165 genre - fluff

“She’s not waking up.” you heard a deep voice say as you slightly came to consciousness.

“I’m not blind, Jet. Think she died?” you heard another voice pitch in. It sounded playful, but deep; just not as deep as the first man’s voice – Jet.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s that bad… hm…”

You felt your eyes try to open, but it wasn’t working. You wanted to stretch, do anything that would signal that you could hear what was happening around you, but nothing was working.

“How’d she even end up here?” the second voice asked.

“You know that bounty I was trying to catch?”

“It’s her?!”

“No, no, she was just nearby when I was trying to catch the guy… She got wrapped up in all of it and the asshole knocked her out.”

“No shit.” the second voice chuckled and you heard the sound of a lighter and smelled cigarette smoke.

Somehow, that got you to feel a little more alive and you were able to slightly open your eyes. A groan came out of you as your eyelashes fluttered open.

“She’s waking up!” Jet said. When you opened your eyes, you saw the man, who had a metal arm and a very concerned expression on his rugged face.

“Well, would you look at that?” the other man puffed at his cigarette and chuckled.

“Spike, come on, be nice. She could really be hurt.”

When you were able to get your eyes to open with ease, you turned to look at the other man – Spike – and you felt like this was all suddenly a dream.

“Where am I?” you managed to say. The slur in your voice was embarrassing.

“Don’t worry,” Jet said. “We’re not here to hurt you–”

“Or kidnap you.” Spike spoke up.

“Shut up, Spike.” Jet turned to you and grabbed both of your hands softly. “Do you know your name?”

You nodded. “y/n. It’s y/n.”

“y/n,” Jet said softly. “I’m Jet.”

“Nice to meet you.” you tried. Your voice sounded tired and it felt like you were still drifting in and out of sleep.

“Do you live nearby?” Jet asked.

You looked around the area you were in, but it looked to be the inside of a ship. A little messy, but comfortable.

“How would I know if I’m on a ship?” you chuckled.

Jet’s face turned bright red. “We-We’re not kidnapping you, I am so sorry, uh…” He looked frantically around him and Spike chuckled, putting out his cigarette on a metal table next to him.

“y/n, can you walk?” Spike asked.

You looked down at your hands and they looked as though they were spinning. You were incredibly dizzy, so there was probably no chance.

“I don’t think so.”

“You wouldn’t mind if I carried you, would you?” Spike leaned in strikingly close to your face and you had to move back a bit.

“Uh…”

“Spike, don’t scare the poor thing!” Jet pushed Spike back and apologized on his behalf.

“I wouldn’t mind… I don’t think. I don’t really know if my brain is working properly, to be honest.” you laughed.

“See, Jet, the little lady doesn’t mind.”

“Spike, don't.”

Spike walked over and wrapped his long arm underneath your knees. He whispered a light apology under his breath and picked you up with ease. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and looked away from him with a red face. You couldn’t tell if it was from being unconscious and still being barely a human or the truth, but Spike was really good looking. “You ready, my dear?” he asked.

You nodded and looked over at Jet, who looked upset.

“Oh, quit pouting, Jet. I won’t be out long. And who knows, maybe I’ll catch the man you couldn’t.”

Jet huffed while Spike left with you in his arms. When the two of you stepped out of the ship, it was night and the sky was full of bright stars. The last thing you remember was going shopping around midday, so how long were you out?

“Know where you are?” Spike asked.

You looked at your surroundings, even if a little dizzy. Immediately, you recognized the port where Spike and Jet parked their ship.

“I live in town.” you told him. “Not too far from here.” You lazily pointed to the town just outside the port and Spike began walking that way. He took it easy as to not make you dizzier than you already were and you appreciated that.

“So you’re a bounty hunter?” you asked. Your voice sounded less slurred, so that was good.

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. What about you, love?”

You could feel yourself blush and were thankful for the night sky. “I used to be a bounty hunter.”

“Shit, really?”

You nodded. “I don’t do it much anymore. Wanted to settle down. Now I sell info.”

“You make good money that way?”

“Great money. Lots of people looking for info around here, so it makes my job easy.”

“Sounds nice. Settling down.”

“It’s all right.” you admitted. You felt yourself dissociating and getting much too tired, but you continued. “Sometimes I miss running around and trying to live in the stars.”

Spike hummed, but left it at that. It was as if he noticed you weren’t quite there.

“Sorry.” you mumbled.

“For what?”

“Getting you involved.”

“I should be saying that, silly. You must be real tired.”

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Something like that.”

“Well, hey, no falling asleep yet. Which one’s your place?”

“Two more rights. Then a left. The one with the blue door. There should be a key under the mat.”

“All right, sweetheart. We’re almost there.” Spike picked up the pace until you two made it. He squatted down and fished for the key, which he luckily found. When he opened the door, you were hit with the smell of your own home.

You felt Spike’s arms leave your body and instead felt the plush couch beneath you.

“Do you live with anyone else?” Spike whispered.

You shook your head. “Just me.” your eyes were still closed, so all you could feel was Spike’s warm, cigarette-scented breath on your cheek.

“You gonna be okay?”

“I think so.”

“You need a hospital.” Spike tucked your hair behind your ear gently.

“Do I?”

“I think so?” Spike chuckled. “I dunno, I’ve been shot a dozen times and end up fine.”

“Same.” You curled over on your side.

“Please be safe.” His voice was soft.

You turned to look at him in the dark of your living room. He looked like a beautiful silhouette.

“Why?” you asked.

“I want to see you again.”

You smiled even though you knew he couldn’t see it.

“You will.”

“Promise?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

You could see in his shadow that he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I expect a date next time. You know, for saving your life.”

You laughed. “Whatever you say, space cowboy.”

~~~~~

cowboy bebop masterlist | pinned post

2024 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated

~~~~~

[violetarks]

↬ MASTERLISTS

↣ my hero academia

↠ includes: midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, iida tenya, uraraka ochaco, kaminari denki, kirishima eijiro, yaoyorozu momo, ashido mina, shinso hitoshi, togata mirio, amajiki tamaki, takami keigo (hawks), shigaraki tomura and dabi

↣ tokyo revengers

↠ includes: hanagaki takemichi, sano 'mikey' manjiro, ryuguji 'draken' ken, baji keisuke, matsuno chifuyu, mitsuya takashi, shiba hakkai, kawata 'smiley' nahoya, kawata 'angry' souya, hanma shuji, hanemiya kazutora, kurokawa izana, haitani ran, haitani rindou, sanzu haruchiyo, hitto kakucho, tachibana naoto, tachibana hinata, kawagari senju, sano shinichiro, sano emma

↣ attack on titan

↠ includes: eren jaeger, mikasa ackerman, armin arlert, jean kirstein, connie springer, sasha braus, ymir, historia reiss, levi ackerman, hange zöe, erwin smith, reiner braun, bertholdt hoover, annie leonheart, zeke jaeger, porco galliard, pieck finger and colt grice

↣ alice in borderland

↠ includes: arisu ryohei, usagi yuzuha, chishiya shuntaro, kuina hikari, aguni morizono, rizuna ann, tatta kodai, karube daikichi and segawa chota

↣ alien stage

↠ includes: mizi, sua, till, ivan, luka and hyuna

↣ chainsaw man

↠ includes: denji, hayakawa aki, power, higashiyama kobeni, kishibe, yoshida hirofumi, mitaka asa, yoru, makima, angel devil, himeno and reze

↣ jujutsu kaisen

↠ includes: itadori yuji, fushiguro megumi, kugisaki nobara, zen'in maki, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuta, zen'in mai, miwa kasumi, todo aoi, kamo noritoshi, gojo satoru, nanami kento, sukuna, choso, geto suguru and fushiguro toji

↣ cowboy bebop

↠ includes: spike spiegel, jet black and faye valentine

↣ fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood

↠ includes: ed elric, roy mustang, riza hawkeye, maes hughes, jean havoc, alphonse elric, winry rockbell, ling yao, greedling, greed, envy and lust

↣ ouran high school host club

↠ includes: fujioka haruhi, suoh tamaki, ootori kyoya, hitachiin hikaru, hitachiin kaoru, haninozuka 'honey' mitsukuni and morinozuka 'mori' takashi

↣ haikyuu!!

↠ includes: hinata shouyo, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, yamaguchi tadashi, nishinoya yuu, tanaka ryuunosuke, ennoshita chikara, sawamura daichi, azumane asahi, sugawara koushi, haiba lev, kozume kenma, kuroo tetsurou, yaki morisuke, bokuto koutaro, akaashi keiji, kunimi akira, oikawa tooru, iwaizumi hajime, goshiki tsutomu, shirabu kenjiro, ushijima wakatoshi, tendou satori, semi eita, sakusa kiyoomi, miya atsumu and miya osamu

↣ the arcana/fictif

↠ includes: asra alnazar, julian devorak, muriel, sage lesath, anisa anka and felix iskandar escellun

↣ steam datings sims

↠ includes: cove holden, everett gray, nate lawson, bae pyoun, nightowl, xyx, quest and micah yujin

[elysianavenue]

Not Alone

Spike Spiegel x Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: injury, lots of mentions of blood, reader has trouble asking for help.

Summary: Before you met Spike, you had gotten used to dealing with things on your own. When you get hurt, Spike tries to get you to realize that you're not alone anymore.

Word Count: 1008

Maybe he just didn't know you as well as he thought he did. It was funny, almost. After 3 whole years of being with you, he still couldn't tell when you were hurt. Maybe it wasn't him. Maybe you were just too damn good at hiding it, after years and years of being alone.

To you, it had just become a habit. To deal with injuries on your own, constantly feeling as if you'd be a burden to anyone who'd be so kind as to offer the tiniest amount of help. That just wasn't you. You couldn't do that to people when you were fully capable of patching yourself up.

So when a target worth quite the amount of woolongs manages to get the better of you, you didn't give the burning pain on the left side of your waist a second thought. There were more important things going on, after all.

Luckily, you had your partner in crime with you. Spike had taken down the guy, and the two of you were very eager to retrieve your reward, the injury on your side already being forgotten. That is until you and Spike made it back to the Bebop.

The pain, which started off as a burning pain, then a throbbing pain, was now both of those and before you knew it, you were limping from the pain.

The thought of burdening Spike made you uneasy, so as best you could, you pushed through the pain and walked towards your room, ignoring the comments from Spike and Jet, both of which were asking where you were going.

"I'm tired, I'm going to lie down for a bit." Was all you said before disappearing.

Spike lied back on his yellow couch, arms resting under his head as he tried to push back the nagging thoughts that were telling him something was wrong with you. You'd tell him if something was wrong...Wouldn't you?

"Something happen?" Jet asked, his attention back to the tall man on the couch.

"We had a little bit of trouble with the guy, but I don't think anything more than that happened," Spike shrugged, lighting the cigarette he put between his teeth.

"You don't think?" Jet deadpanned.

Spike sighed and sat up, now wondering if maybe something more had happened. The guy was holding a knife...No, you would've said something. Or would you?

Deciding enough was enough, Spike stood up, dropping his cigarette and ignoring Jet's remarks that the ship wasn't his personal ash tray. He didn't care. He had to make sure you were okay.

Meanwhile, you stood in front of your mirror with your shirt off, blinking back the tears from the pain. It was a nasty wound. It was a deep cut and the amount of blood made you sick to your stomach.

Your shaky hands were busy cleaning the cut while your teeth were sunk into your bottom lip, trying to hold back the cries that so desperately wanted to escape.

A knock on your door made you yelp and before you could get a single word out, none other than Spike Spiegel let himself in.

"I just wanted to know if you were...," He trailed off, his eyes widening at your current state. Not to mention, the amount of blood.

"Shit, Y/n." He ran over to you. You turned away from him, almost as if that could stop him. You didn't want him to see you like this.

"I'm fine, Spike. It's just a scratch," You said frantically. Definitely not fine, and most definitely not just a scratch.

"A scratch? Are we looking at the same thing?" He replied, possibly just as frantic. It was odd to see him react in such a way. Normally Spike didn't lose his cool over situations like this.

"Okay, yeah, it's bad. But I can handle it, trust me, I've dealt with worse," You kept trying to push him away.

At those words, I've dealt with worse, Spike realized he didn't know you as well as he thought. What could you have possibly gone through alone?

"I have no doubt you can handle this, but you're not alone, so please let me help you with this," He held onto your shoulders while he crouched down to your height so he could look in your eyes.

You were at a loss for words as he spoke. You're not alone. It's true, you weren't alone, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were burdening him.

"I don't want you to go out of your way for something like this," You gave one last futile attempt to deal with it alone.

He gave you a look. One that said "are you kidding me?" It made you want to hide in the corner like a little kid.

"Let me tell you something, Y/n. I'd go out of my way to help you with a goddamn paper cut, cause guess what, sweetheart? I kinda love you or something, all right? The last thing I want is for you to feel like you have to hide things like this from me because you're worried I'm going out of my way," He didn't look away from your eyes the entire time.

He loves you. You couldn't help the blush that appeared on your cheeks as you repeated his words in your head.

"So how 'bout it? Will you let me take care of you?" He asked, flashing you a comforting smirk. You sighed, unable to turn him down, even showing a small smile. "I suppose."

So he took care of your wound, apologizing every time you winced in pain, cleaned up the blood, and handed you a clean shirt to change into. Once you were fixed up, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and ushered you to the bed.

It was foreign to you, being taken care of like this. But you told yourself that if you were able to get used to dealing with things alone, then you could manage to get used to Spike helping you out once in a while.

A/n: just a lil something i thought was cute since ive been multitasking with anime and rewatching cowboy bebop at the same time im watching one piece and black clover teehee. very overstimulated. anywaysssss.

[keigologies]

sick heart, sick body, s. spiegel

syn. you both got some healing to do.

gen. romance, sick fic.

warnings. canon typical spike banter.

word count. 2.1k.

note. this was posted on ao3 forever ago and i said it was cross-posted here, but i ... clearly never actually did that... until now... oops (?)

spike has known you for most of his bounty hunting career. you came on the team a year after he himself joined jet, proving yourself to be not some wayward hitchhiker they'd have to take care of on their own dime, but a genuine asset: budgeting skills like no other (which the bebop crew really needed help with, though they would object to if questioned), ways of drawing out bounty heads into false senses of security (without causing a fire fight, something spike could really learn from, according to jet), disciplined in all the ways that matter. you're a quick learner; given the time and patience, you'd been able to pick up on his fighting style and you'd learned enough about mechanical engineering to help him and jet in repairing things on the bebop and the other spaceships on board.

all that to say: you're strong and spike has never known you to be anything else. you're smart, quickwitted, a powerhouse bounty hunter with all the skills that matter. you may be a little quiet, a little meek at points, but you're strong, almost untouchable.

so it surprises him when you come down especially hard with a severe case of the flu. it sounds so... primitive, he thinks, just some stupid earth sickness that honestly can't compete with some of the (quite frankly) awesomely-titled sicknesses that have come to be since the colonization of other planets; really, he justifies to himself, venus sickness sucks, but it is a cool name.

he cringes when he hears you cough for what might seriously be the hundreth time tonight and then mentally punches himself for taking the piss out of what you're going through right now. jet had said you'd contracted it while you guys were hanging around in tijuana and spike had been off tracking bounties; it was just coughing and congestion at first, but apparently, it eventually morphed into something way more severe. you'd quarantined yourself immediately to keep them safe, which spike has respected since he got back earlier in the day, but he shares a bedroom wall with you and damn him if you think he's going to allow you to keep suffering like this without him interfering.

your next coughing fit sends him up and out of the comforting warmth of his bed. it's not like he's angry with you or anything - sure, the coughing is getting on his nerves, but he knows you can't help it and he's not that much of a heartless asshole to be mad at you for keeping him from sleeping specifically because you're ill. really, he finds himself wanting (needing, maybe) to check on you, to make sure you have everything you need so you can rest easy and recover faster.

he realized a long time ago that he'd become jaded about the world. with everything that happened in the before the bebop era, it was clear why he'd become so disillusioned and nonchalant about things. with his past, things just didn't matter as much; he still had life to live, but he'd decided to be a little more reckless about things. he didn't want to waste time worrying about things that didn't concern him, now or ever: whatever happens, happens.

your being sick isn't really any of his business because outside of him having to listen to you cough all night for as long as you're ill, it doesn't concern him in the slightest. he means, it shouldn't concern him because it really shouldn't, but there's a part of him that's... open to the idea of being concerned for you and your wellbeing, which is strange to him because he shut himself off from ideas like that decades ago, it seems like. it's not that he's incapable of it, of caring for another person, but rather that he feels it's more of a betrayal. he'd given his heart to another and he'd never truly gotten it back.

though, in the five long strides it takes him to cross from his door to your own, he thinks that maybe he had gotten it back, years ago even, and he was too afraid to admit it to himself. so many things he'd held himself back from for years, all in the name of a woman who had disappeared into the ether without so much as a trace. she was gone; dead or alive, julia was gone and she had been for a long time. it's been time for him to douse that torch for a while now.

and when he comes to this conclusion in those five strides, he thinks that you getting sick might be a blessing in disguise, at least for him, because he's realizing now that he's been taken with you for quite some time. he's not sure when it first started, this infatuation with you, but it certainly isn't recent. he supposes it doesn't matter, however, because he's realizing it now, on his way to rescue you from an earth virus that definitely had a way lamer name than other sicknesses, which is a comment he's sure you'll laugh at and agree with him about if he brings it up.

once he finally raps his knuckles on the sliding metal door leading to your bedroom, he hears the beginning syllable of "come" before it's interrupted by a ragged cough. your voice, rough and almost whispered, struggles to say "come in," but you finally manage it and he opens the door just enough to slide in, ducking under the door frame.

"you feeling alright?" he asks, closing the door behind him. "you've been hacking up a lung all night."

you do your best to laugh, but it's a sad attempt, barely there and hoarse. a piece of him wilts at the sound, sad to hear you in such a bad condition. "better than i was yesterday."

"sure doesn't sound like it," he answers, turning towards you. he withers a little more.

you look so small in your bed, under what he can only guess to be every single available blanket on the bebop. you have dark circles under your eyes, your cheeks sunken and your skin pallid in accordance. you look like you have one foot in the grave.

"jesus," spike says, crossing the small room to your bedside and sitting on the edge. "you look awful. have you been eating?"

somehow, he's able to recognize your shrug under fifteen different blankets. "we're almost out of food. didn't wanna bother jet about it or throw the budget out of sorts."

"are you being serious right now? fuck the budget. you have to eat when you're sick like this." he genuinely frowns and presses the back of his hand to your forehead and then cheeks. "and you're burning up. did you just decide to forgo medicine in the name of the budget too?"

you shrug again.

"you're the worst." 

but you can tell he's joking because if he really thought that, he wouldn't be here at all. he stands and when he turns to look at you, you've got a questioning expression on your face.

"oh, don't look at me like that. i'm not just going to come in here, berate you for being stupid about being sick, and then leave. i'm going to go see if i can track down some medicine."

"it's not gonna be any of that weird shit you keep in the first aid kit, is it?" you ask, a grimace clear on your face.

"okay, first off, that weird shit is home remedies and they work just fine. second, no, i'm not stupid. that stuff isn't going to cure what you have, so don't worry your pretty little head, alright? the newt stays in the kit another day."

the last comment makes you laugh and this time, it's not as hoarse as it was a few minutes ago, which makes him smile to himself. with you being in the state you are, it's nice to hear a few seconds of your cool, clear laugh. something about it anchors him to this moment in time, reminds him that he's not as cold and as standoffish as he's always presented himself to be in this new life of his; no, he's capable of caring for people like this, of loving someone like this. he's got something good here with you and he's always had it, he's just never let himself think that it was his to actually indulge in.

"i'll see what i can find. in the meantime, start deconstructing that 'money is more important than my pressing health needs' mindset you apparently have going on, okay? i mean, really, you were worried about the budget? you know jet would agree with me here, as much as he complains about not having money. plus, shit that you can't account for happens."

"okay, okay, i get it." you accompany your words with an eye roll, but the smile is clear on your lips, which are cracked from dehydration. "can we save the lecture for when you get back? or just save it for jet altogether since i know you'll end up snitching to him about this eventually anyway?"

spike scowls, but it's obviously playful. "don't go catching an attitude with me. i'm generously playing nurse for you right now when i could very well just let you suffer here alone."

"oh, this is you playing nurse? then you really oughta work on your bedside manner, spiegel. it's atrocious."

he shakes his head and begins backing away from you, arms crossed over his chest. "keep acting like that and maybe i'll feed you that newt after all."

"yeah, yeah, yeah. i think jet's been hiding chamomile tea somewhere in the living room. make some for me, please?"

"you're real lucky i'm in the mood to be compassionate," he jokes, finally turning to open the door. "you want honey with it?"

"if we have any."

"you got it. don't fall asleep before i get back or i'm ratting you out to jet about this tea too."

he hears your hum of affirmation as he steps into the hallway and when he closes the door behind him, he allows himself to assess the whole interaction. if this had occurred at any point before now, he would have felt entirely disgusted with himself, but at present, he realizes he doesn't really mind. you've taken care of him an innumerable amount of times since joining him and jet, serving as the defacto nurse on the bebop, and this could easily be just him returning the favor, but it feels like so much more than that. 

because it is. if it was anyone else, if was any other time, he wouldn't be feeling this way: soft and warm on the inside like heat without his trusty cigarette. when he'd left the syndicate and faked his death, he'd sworn off love and adoration and affection. they had been his downfall once, they would not ruin him a second time. sure, he'd come to trust jet more than he'd trusted anyone before, but he kept even him at arm's length, afraid of what might happen if he let him come too close to orbit. 

and while it worked for the most part, spike has been learning (for what he assumes is quite a long time) that cutting those kinds of human connections of out of one's life isn't the way to go about healing, especially when the person one wants to love has proven time and time again that they're worthy of being trusted. there is no life without love because life without love and companionship is a sickness of the heart and he's let it fester for far too long.

so when he comes back to your room with a hot mug of chamomile tea with honey, a few pieces of hard tack he scrounged up, and some generic medicine, and he finds you asleep? he doesn't find himself all too annoyed with you like he threatened he'd be. no, instead, he feels a little bad when he has to wake you up to drink and eat and take the medicine he had to go digging through too many drawers for. and when you apologize for keeping him up with your coughing, he tells you you're the worst next door neighbor for it (a joke), but he's glad he can help you (not a joke).

and when you ask him if he'll stay for a while (just to make sure i'm not going to die in my sleep, you reason), he agrees and lays under your fifteen blankets with you until your breathing evens out and you're fast asleep, and even then, he stays just a little bit longer than he needs to, relishing in the feeling of sharing a bed with another person again.

he figures you've both got some healing to do, so you won't mind if he falls asleep with you. 

© keigologies 2023. do not translate, copy, or repost my work on any site.

[demigoddessqueens]

whatever happens, happens Valentine 💌 💘

HERE ON MASTERLIST 9

Valentine's Headcanons include…

Spike is not the kind to really indulge in something like Valentine's Day, not really into the whole "lovey dovey" scene. Comes with his past and all.

May or may not tease you about Valentine's, especially if you really enjoy the holiday or what comes along with it.

But he is observant, and he'll put something together for you once he gets a glimpse of what you like.

Cue a surprise you find in your room of small gifts, trinkets that he put together for you. Along with a crudely written note:

"Whatever happens, happens Valentine. I'm in the living room, if you ever want to talk."

Who says he doesn't have a heart?

[manias-wordcount]

Perfect View (Spike Spiegel)

Kinktober 2024 Day Twenty-Two: Mirror Sex

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast @asuperconfusedgirl @rendartgrimson @abellaheart-blog @sachimz @roronoaism @skylardarling @24hour-xixi @spikesbunny @miiiraaazh

His favorite thing to do in the whole world is look at you.

When you’re just out walking. When you started to fall asleep with your head against his shoulder. When you’re playing with Ein. When you’re cooking with Jet. When you’re bonding with Ed and Faye. When you’re just being yourself. When you’re just being with him. Experiencing life. Experiencing a whole range of emotions. Because he gets to witness that too.

And he likes seeing you frustrated and whenever you start to pout. It’s sparking something inside him that just finds the way you look when you get riled up far too adorable for words. He likes glancing over at you when you’re thinking hard about something. Because that concentrated look you get on his face is something worth living for. He likes watching you when it’s obvious that you’re happy and excited. Because that light in your eyes is something worth dying for. But at the moment? He thinks his favorite few of you are the ones he’s looking at right now.

His favorite view of you is watching you struggle to keep your back arched and take his dick from behind all while he gets to watch your pretty little expression from the mirror he parked you in front of.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He mumbled just low enough for you to barely hear over the sound of skin slapping against skin. Right now, he has you lying on his bed on your stomach in front of a large, simply designed, and old-looking standing mirror that you managed to convince him to buy in a heat of the moment decision (on Faye no doubt had influenced you on). But he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to say no to you. So the mirror came home with the two of you for a couple more woolongs than he would really like to pay. Though in exchange, you promised you would do something for him. Something that would make it all better. “Fuck…you feel so good…”

He had no idea that something would include him finding you lying in front of the mirror after he left it in his room with nothing but a pair of panties on you asked if you could make his night a little better for all his troubles. But he wasn’t complaining. He couldn’t complain. Not when the first thing he did before you could even stop speaking was take your panties and shove them in his pocket for later while he buried his face between your thighs. Though that was then. That was back when he thought the most perfect view of you involved looking up at your face while he still glance down at the boobs he desperately wanted to grab and at the clit he had his lips wrapped around. That was then. But now? Now it’s almost a hundred times better.

Now is perfect.

“Spike…” Your voice comes out in a pretty little whine as your pussy squeezes around him. It’s slick with a mixture of your wetness and his saliva from going to town on the best cunt he’s ever seen, so Spike’s cock is able to slide in nice and deep every single time. That means with every thrust, he gets to hear you gasp and moan so sweetly for him. It’s the most perfect sound for him. It mixes only too well with his own quiet grunts as he rolls his hips into your ass and fucks you prone style so hard that the bed is starting to shake. Fuck, he thinks he’s going crazy. He thinks you’re making him go crazy on purpose. Why else would you tempt him like this? Why else would you let him fuck you like this? So he could spoil himself? So he could spoil you? “Spike, it’s- it’s so much…!”

If that’s the case then he’ll spoil you all night if you’d let him. He’d spoil you all night long because he knows it means spoiling himself too.

“I know, I know…” He murmurs into your ear, but he never slows down with his thrusts. You’re getting a little oversensitive. Which means you’re starting to get close. So close that you can’t help but wiggle and squirm and whine a little louder as your hands reach out to grab at just about anything for leverage. If he were a kinder man, he’d probably focus on fucking you faster and deeper, and harder in a way that ensured that you’d have your orgasm as soon as you wanted it. But he wasn’t that kind of a man. He just can’t help himself when it comes to indulging with you. That’s why he’s so quick to shut you down just now as he sees your head start to turn to look at him- ruining his perfect view of your face as it twists up in pleasure for him and him alone. “No, no, no- keep looking forward for me. Wanna see my pretty girl get stretched around my cock”

He pushes your head back into place with his own head as he stares back into your eyes through the mirror. You hiccup back a sob of desperation, but you don’t try to turn around anymore. An action Spike decides to reward with another kiss to your neck as he buries his nose in your hair and he continues to hold your gaze with a heated look of his own. That’s coming as a struggle to you at this point, considering just how tight you’re starting to get for him. But you do at least attempt to hold his stare like a good girl, despite the from that your eyes are fluttering closed every so often and that the string of drool slipping from your parted lips is making your expression grow even more timid by the second. 

But to him, you just look even more perfect. To him, you’ve just become even more perfect. They’re all just signs that you’re enjoying yourself. They’re all just things that make this dumb purchase all the more perfect. They’re all just things that will make it harder for him to say no to you in the future. They’re all just things that add to his view.

So for now, he’ll keep dragging things out for as long as possible. He’ll keep holding you close and stuffing his cock into your nice, warm, wet walls and kiss all over your skin as you squeal and squirm and whine so sweetly for him. He’ll keep making you feel good. He’ll keep making himself feel good. And he’ll keep looking back into the mirror. The stupid mirror that cost way too much for all the stains on the glass and the chips in the paint around the frame. The stupid mirror he’s probably going to have to move into your room right after this. The stupid mirror he wouldn’t have looked twice at if it weren’t for you because you’re little tempting self, making it impossible for him to keep his eyes off of you for too long. He’ll keep looking back into that mirror. 

All while wondering what he did to deserve such a perfect view.

[reddragon-cowboy]

[This piece is a mere abstract interpretation of a conversation between Spike and Niah while the 'sun' slowly sets on Mars, which is where the surrounding theme of twilight in their story takes place. Originally in my mind, I would have drawn Niah in a gown with a pink sheer kimono falling off her shoulders, but I decided to go with something casual such as high-waisted pants, tank, and a button-down shirt for this variation. ]

It's a languid, moony scene where Spike walks into her yard to find her lounging on a lawn chair, sipping on some red wine and enjoying the scenery of her garden. She doesn't appear to realize his presence quite yet, as her mind was lost in the enchantment of a daydream for a while now, making her lose partial focus on reality. But for just a moment, Spike stands still to bask in the quiet scene, eyes half-lidded beneath the shadow of his curly fringes as he watches her swallowed up in touches of red and green, smoke from his cigarette swirling across his vision. Spike can only admire from afar. At a distance. With a heart that aches at the sight of her. A heart full of yearning, tastes bittersweet upon his tongue, like forbidden fruit he desires to take a bite out of for just a measly taste. A simple drop of sweet wine that taints her lips a blushing red.

/it's okay to reblog btw

[mrs-pondwater19]

You Remind Me of Her

Spike Spiegel x Fem Reader SMUT

Watched and finished Cowboy BeBop and thought it was pretty good. Which means it's time to write an angsty, smutty one shot. It's a really, REALLY long one so settle in. Things get a lil spicy in more ways than one but it's all good. Spike is a sweet, broken baby and he deserves all the love. Minor's this is NOT for you, please walk away. Enjoy my dears.

WARNING: 18+, Minors DNI, SPOILERS, TRIGGER WARNINGS: angst, heated conversations/arguments, smoking, talk of past traumas, slight gaslighting, STRONG mentions of past abuse, breakdown, angst to fluff, reconciliation, reassurance, soft foreplay, fingering, oral (m receiving), comfort sex (p in v), praise kink if you squint, all the lovey-dovey stuff, cum on body, cuddles.

It was supposed to be a quiet night, with Jet out looking for info on a bounty, Faye blowing all her money at the casino, and Ed and Ein on some wacky adventure of their own. You figured you'd have the Bebop to yourself and that Spike would tag along with another one of your comrades. But being the stubborn man he is, he stayed back, wanting some time to himself as well. For a good bit of the night, you both kept to yourselves, he took a cat nap, and you cleaned up the Bebop.

While you were cleaning the kitchen you thought you might try and spend some time with Spike rather than avoid him, seeing as it might come off as rude if you ignored him. After you finished cleaning you put on some comfy clothes in place of your work ones and made your way to the living space. You saw Spike was still lightly sleeping on the couch. You gently bumped his leg, jolting him awake from his dream. He furrowed his brows as he looked over to you.

"Was that really necessary?" he grumbled, annoyed that you woke him. You chuckled to yourself as you sat on the floor next to him, now being at eye level with him. Telling him he shouldn't sleep the entire day away in hopes to lighten his mood. That only seemed to make things worse though. He gave an exasperated sigh as he sat up and pulled a cigarette from his shirt pocket. He blatantly stated that he didn't want to be woken up and that he would've preferred to keep sleeping. You furrowed your brows,

"Well there's no need to be a jerk about it," you pulled yourself up from the floor. You looked at him and crossed your arms, wanting him to talk about what was bugging him, even though you never outright said it. He looked at you with bitter-cold eyes,

"Well maybe if you left me alone there wouldn't be an issue," he spat as he flicked his lighter and took a few puffs until the end burned a bright orange. You sighed heavily, your fingers gripped the sleeve of your shirt to keep yourself calm and collected,

"Im sorry if I bothered you, I just wanted to spend some time with you. Feels like its been a long time since the two of us spent any time together and just hung out you know ."

You two weren't super close, but close enough to where you'd hang out, talk, and occasionally hook up to pass the time. You both knew it would never lead to anything, but you stupidly developed feelings for the floofy-haired man anyways. You wanted to be the one to support him. But he never really showed interest in having a relationship with you, or anyone for that matter. The only time he showed any interest in anything was when his past was brought up, and especially when a certain someone was mentioned. It was those moments where he would either would open up or close off completely. And at that moment you could tell he was thinking about her and his past as he exhaled a cloud of smoke, clearly irritated with you.

"Yeah, and?" He didn't look at you when he asked. You felt the heat of anger and resentment rise in your cheeks, finding it hard to keep your composure.

"And I thought we could spend a little bit of time together, is that such a heinous request," you spat back at him.

"Whenever you want to 'spend time together' it usually means you wanna sleep with me, and im gonna pass on that." Your arms fell to your sides and clenched into fists. You took an audibly deep sigh,

"Believe it or not I don't always wanna sleep with you, sometimes I do just want to talk," you rebutted. He took another puff, and exhaled heavily, still not making eye contact with you,

"Heh, could've fooled me," he mumbled, the cigarette never leaving his lips as he spoke. You scoffed in disbelief and crossed your arms over your chest once again, scowling at him. Spike had always been a bit snarky, it seemed it was just in his nature, but the comment he made was pure spite.

"For the love of Christ what the hell is your problem?"

He adjusted to a position where he was slouching and one arm rested crossed on his thigh, while the other reached for his half-smoked cigarette,

"I already told you," he said before taking in another long, exasperated drag. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics,

"Don't give me that bullshit Spike, we both know that's not true," you bitterly spat.

You both were getting visibly frustrated at that point. Spike's leg began to lightly bounce up and down and your fingers tapped against your arms.

"Even if something was bothering me it's none of your goddamn business," he said finishing his cigarette and putting it out in the ashtray beside him.

"Spike, please, I just wanna-" you were cut off by Spike standing up abruptly, now fuming with anger in his eyes,

"Fine, since you wanna know so fuckin' badly I'll tell you! When I sleep, I'm never at peace with myself, if it's not one thing from my past it's another. Not that you would understand." He said sitting back down, defeated and frustrated. You sat next to him, hoping he would allow you to comfort him,

"I might understand it more than you think," you said as you reached for his hand, only for him to pull away.

"No, you don't understand. You don't understand what it's like to lose the one person who loved you for what you were, even though they knew you were inherently bad. You'll never know what it's like to have to just walk away from the life you knew and the people you loved and cared about. You'll never know what that's like, ever." Angered by his remark you rebutted,

"You have no right to say that whatsoever when you know very little of what my past was like. Not once have ever implied that kind of attitude towards your past and what you experienced. Do not say I don't understand, because, believe it or not I do know what it's like " you said getting up and preparing to leave the room.

"You're the one who just had to push. This is what you wanted to know, and you got what you asked for," he snapped as stepped in front of you, blocking your way to the exit.

"At least I'm not a hypocrite. How you always say that we should let our pasts stay in the past. But as soon as she's brought up that philosophy is out the window and is suddenly the only thing that fucking matters. But when it's one of us it shouldn't be bothered with and we should leave it alone and move on. Just because she keeps popping up in your dreams doesn't mean we get to put everything on hold to chase after you chasing after her," you said as you struggled to push him aside to make your way to the bathroom, but he remained still.

"At least I still care about the people in my past. I didn't just up and leave and abandon the people I loved because I wanted to. That's the difference between you and me, I was loyal to the ones I loved-" Before he could get another word in you slapped him, hard. Tears began to swell and threatened to fall from your eyes as he brought his hand to his face and attempted to rub the sting out of his cheek. But you would never let him see them, not like this.

"How dare you? You have no right to bring that up. Because you don't know the whole story of what happened. And I didn't abandon them, if we're going to bring up abandonment, Julia is a perfect example. She abandoned you, Spike, and if she really gave a damn about you she would've showed up that day and ran away with you. But she didn't. So, as you always say, let it go and move on," you said, pushing him as hard as you could, finally getting him to move aside. He stared at you in awe as you made your way to the door,

"She would've never abandoned me," he stated lightly as he reached for another cigarette.

"Could've fooled me," you replied harshly as you exited the room and made your way down the hall to the bathroom.

You slammed the door and locked it behind you, you took a deep breath as you made your way to the tub. You turned the knobs and let the water fill the porcelain vessel. Tears began to fall as the water ran, drowning out the sounds of your stifled cries. The feeling of guilt set in the pit of your stomach as memories began to flood your mind. Particularly the ones that were brought up in the argument.

You sank down in the steaming water, shuddering at the warmth that rushed through your body while pondering on the past. Tears continuing to stain your face as you wondered deeper into your thoughts.

You were part of a family at one point in time, to a home where a couple took in lost, orphaned, or abandoned children. During the early years of being there you never felt the need to run away on or be your own, you always felt incredibly safe and secure. You helped out around the house, did your chores, and got along well enough with your housemates. Until you got a little older, and then things began to change. Your father began acting differently toward you, more aggressive and irritable. And it only got worse after his wife passed away unexpectedly. He would start taking his aggression out on you and some of the of the other girls living in the home. It started off small, whether it was pushing you aside harshly or random flicks on the head to keep you in line. Then it progressed in to hitting, manhandling, and kicking while you were doing chores or playing with the other kids. It was to the point where it was everyday that the abuse took place. You and a few of your housemates were bruised, bloodied and beaten to the point of unconsciousness, while other housemates were used for more sinister acts. Anyone who fought back was either beaten senseless and kicked out, or never seen again. No matter what it was something would set him off and he would go into uncontrollable rages, and you had no choice but to take the beatings. You were young, defenseless, and had nowhere else to go, therefore you had no choice but to endure the constant abuse.

Until one day you found your out.

You were able to save back enough woolongs from odd jobs to get a one way trip off world, but you alone. Woolongs were hard to come by in the household and being able to build up what you had seemed like a miracle in itself. You planned to make your escape late into the night, after everyone was asleep, and taking only what you needed to survive.

When the time came you were quick and quiet about it. Woolongs and suitcase in hand, you quietly walked down the stairs and out the front door. You looked behind you saddened and guilt coursing through your entire bod. You wanted to bring them all with you and give them a better life. but unfortunately it just wasn't possible. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to go forward. But you found the strength deep within you and walked away, never looking back after. The memories of your housemates flooded your mind as you made your way on the ship alone, blocking out all the sounds of the station. You found yourself a seat and watched as the ship began to take off, and you looked down on that planet for the last time.

You submerged yourself under the water, hoping it would help shake off the memories of that dreadful place. As much as you hated to admit it, you and Spike were similar when it came to your pasts, but you both reacted much differently from one another. You would find yourself entranced in fear and guilt, afraid that you made the wrong decision or that you didn't try hard enough to help yourself and those who you left behind. Remembering the abuse you endured, as well as being reminded of emotional and mental scars that were left for you to carry.

Reemerging from the lukewarm water for air, you couldn't handle the thoughts that were running rampant in your head. The quiet tears that had been falling now turned to violent sobs of anguish. You couldn't hold it in, after all the time that had passed, you couldn't find the strength hold it back anymore. It hurt to think about it, to think that you turned your back on them, even though you didn't have any other choice.

After you rode out your breakdown you finished your bath and pulled yourself up and out of the tub. Grabbing a towel you wrapped your body up and went to the sink to wash your face. Looking in the a mirror, a red, swollen, puffy eyed face looked back at you. Sighing heavily you splashed cold water on your face, hoping it would help with the redness and swelling.

After drying off and putting your clothes back on you looked at yourself again, still puffy and red. It seemed it was going to be a bit before it went back to normal.

Slipping quietly out of the bathroom you made your way across the ship to your room. You let yourself fall back onto the bed, hoping you'd just crash, and you that's exactly what you did.

...

Weeks passed since the argument between the two of you. Neither one saying much to the other during that time. You both tried your best to not think about what happened, ignoring the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. You were courteous when you interacted with him, which hadn't been often. Whether it was during missions or at meal time. You could tell it was bothering him though, he wanted you to say something, anything, to be angry and upset with the way he spoke to you that night. But you felt it was best to move on from it rather than bringing it back up and continue a senseless conversation.

It had been a hard day for you, you lost a bounty and Jet had been harping on you to keep up with the rest of the gang, seeing as you'd been slipping behind lately. During those weeks you spent most of your time in your room laying in bed crying, overthinking, and sleeping, so you didn't get as much training in as you should. You didn't want to cause a fuss with your shipmates thought so you kept to yourself and tried to do your best to get through your fragile state. But Jet being the kind of man he was, he could see right through you,

"I don't know what's going on between you and Spike, but you gotta figure that shit out and get your head back in the game Y/N," he said as you were traveling back to your room after returning from the failed mission. You gave him a sadden expression,

"I know, I'm sorry Jet, I just need to get some things figured out before I talk to him is all. But don't worry about me, I'll be ok, really ," you said giving him sad eyes with a forced smile. He gave you a sympathetic expression and put his metallic hand on your shoulder giving you a pat of reassurance,

"I hope so kid, if you ever need anything I'm here for ya. Just get back to being the Y/N we know and love, ok?"

You pulled him into a quick but loving hug, fighting the urge to cry,

"Thank you Jeb, you're the best." Pulling away you gave him an appreciative smile and made your way to your room, not realizing a certain someone had overheard the interaction.

...

You spent the rest of the day in your room, cleaning up and reorganizing to keep your mind busy, but when you couldn't clean or reorganize anymore you stripped down and crawled into bed. Though it was difficult, you were finally able to drift off to sleep.

There was a loud banging on your door that caused you to jolt up from your slumber, groaning in frustration you wrapped yourself in your blanket, pulled yourself out of bed, and walked to the door. A stoic Spike was waiting on the other side when you opened up,

"Hey," you said still half asleep. You looked at him groggily, he was shirtless and in a pair of light grey sweats, but you didn't pay too much attention to his attire considering the circumstances. He grunted lightly and pushed past you into your room, almost knocking you down. Sighing deeply you closed the door behind you and followed him into your room. He sat down at the foot of you bed while you walked to the head and sat, putting some distance between you both.

"It's late Spike," you said while fiddling with the blanket that clung to your body.

"Yeah, " he replied while flicking his lighter on and off. A bit of silence passed until you spoke up, your breath getting caught in your throat while asking,

"Why are you here?"

"I wanna talk," he stated in a whisper. Spike adjusted so he was now sitting cross legged on the bed and pulled a cigarette out from his pant pocket,

"You mind?" You shook your head in response, knowing it wouldn't matter if you did. Once he lit his lighter and took a puff the room began to fill with smoke, and a stoic expression fell on his face once again.

"What did you wanna talk about," you asked while turning your face the other way as to not inhale the smoke directly. He grumbled at your question, holding back what he wanted to say. It took some time, but after a few more grumbles and mutters to himself he finally spoke,

"About that night, when we argued," your head snapped back in his direction, unsure and anxious of where the conversation was headed.

"I've been thinking a lot about what was said from both of us, but mostly what I said. And even though a lot of the things that were said were true, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the things I said and how I treated you. It wasn't right of me to do that" he said gritting the cigarette between his teeth. You frowned,

"What do you mean by that?"

"What?"

"What do you mean by a lot of things that were said were true," you pried at him as you clutched the blanket. The smoke in the room was getting heavy and you began to cough, he sighed and put the cigarette out, seeing as it was clearly bothering you.

"What I mean is that some of what you said was true, like how I always run after her when I get even the slightest hint of where she is. And that whenever anything is brought it becomes the only thing that matters. It's one of those things I can't explain," he said falling back on to the bed. Your body relaxed, you looked at him as he laid there, lost in thought and an expression of confliction. You were about to speak, but he beat you to it,

"And I feel bad about what I said to you. It wasn't fair of me to assume what happened, and throwing it back in your face was wrong. I'm sorry," he said in a soft voice. His hand ran through his hair as he shuffled. He wasn't used to being this open or soft with anyone, anyone that wasn't her. Feeling you could open up to him now in this moment, you spoke calmly,

"I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have pushed as much as I did. I lost my temper and said things I shouldn't have. I just wanted you to be open with me, like you were with Julia. And when I didn't get that, I lashed out at you, at that wasn't fair of me to do. I shouldn't have expected you to be as intimate with me as you were in your past. I'm really, truly sorry Spike," you said wholeheartedly as you pat his shoulder lightly. He jumped slightly in surprise but soon relaxed into your touch. He furrowed his brows as he turned his face towards you,

"You remind me of her, you know. To the point where it hurts," he said as he placed his hand in yours.

"How so?"

"It's the little things you do. The way you handle situations so calmly and treat everyone with compassion. But mostly it's the way you look at me. You have that spark in your eyes that she had, and its like seeing a ghost that continuously lingers. I know you're not her, and I don't expect you to be. And Im not sure how to manage these feelings I have, but I'm trying to be better." He sat up and turned to face you, his hand never leaving yours. His eyes finally meeting up with yours for the first time in weeks. The soft glow from the stars flowing into your room from thewindow illuminated the uniqueness of them. Captivated by his features you found yourself at a loss for words,

"Y/N, I promise that no matter what, I'll never use what happened in your past against you ever again. And I want you to know that when you're ready, I'll be more than willing to listen to all of it," he said as he softly cupped your cheek with his free hand. A few stray tears fell down your cheeks and he gently wiped them away as you spoke,

"Thank you Spike. You don't how much that means to me. And I promise to do the same for you whenever you're ready," you whispered softly to him. The glittering his eyes from the soft light shifted in something in you, what little bit of anger you had left for him melted away. And then a new feeling bubbled up inside you, a feeling you hadn't experienced in quite a while. You felt yourself drawing closer to him, feeling a bit bold, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek,

"Thank you again Spike," you said as you gave him an expression of gratitude. He smiled softly in response, but you could tell he was still holding something back, something strained. His hands moved from your tear stained cheeks down to your bare shoulders, his eyes hazy and a faint dusting of pink in his face. You felt the heat rising all throughout your body, and your self control depleting with each passing second. Lust overcame your better judgement and you closed the space between you with a soft kiss. It was loving, yet needy all the same as your hands slowly ran down his shoulders and to his chest. You expected him to pull back, but instead he deepened the kiss and tightly gripped your shoulders. Pulling away to take a breath, your lips flushed and slightly swollen, you felt a spur of guilt in your chest,

"I'm sorry Spike, I shouldn't have done that," you stated disappointingly as you turned away from him and took your hands off his chest. Only to be met with his hand bringing your gaze back to his,

"Do it again." His eyes dark and glassy with desire as your lips gently crashed on to his once again. You slowly fell back on to the soft mattress. You slowly snaked your arms down his back in attempts to pull him closer, his calloused hands wandering down to your waist to do the same. He gave a slight groan as the kiss got more intense and sloppy, the need for his touch coursing through your veins once his grip tightened on your waist. He pulled away with a gasp for air as he looked at you, your face red as a rose and eyes half lidded with want,

"You're so pretty," he said in a breathy whisper.

He pulled you in close and his head dipped into your neck. His hair tickled your neck as his flushed lips make contact with your sensitive skin. A shiver flowed through your body as he began to sweetly suck on the skin, holding back your moans for the sake of your shipmates. As he left them one by one down to your collarbone he lightly tugged on the blanket still wrapped tightly around you. Pushing him up and off you for just a moment so you could get into a better position, you teasingly peeled the blanket off of you, slowly revealing your flushed skin. The way the stars light fell on your naked form left Spike breathless. Though he'd seen you naked many times before, the way the light fell on you, the expression on your face, and maybe just the reassurance that you understood him in that moment made him see you in an entirely different light. You held out your arms to him, coaxing him to come back to you. His hands caressed the plush skin of your thighs as he continued to leave hickeys down your collarbone and to your chest. Your heavy breathing and stifled moans filled the small space as he began to suck on the soft flesh and slowly moved to the hardened bud. As he took your nipple in his mouth, one of his hands moved to the other and began to roll and pinch it between his nimble fingers. You yelped at the bursting sensation coming from your chest,

"Spike," you quietly moaned out to him. Gripping his hair lightly as a way to keep you grounded from losing yourself. Everytime the two of you did this you found it very easy to lose yourself in the heat of it all and fully surrender yourself to him. But this time you were reluctant to do so. Not because you were afraid, but because of what you knew. The nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach knowing were never going to be her, not matter how hard you tried to be. He would always want her, and that hurt you,

"Hey, what's wrong," he said, concern lacing his voice.

"It's nothing," you sighed lightly as you twirled his hair between your fingers. He moved his hands to your face brought your gaze to his,

"Talk to me pretty girl." You tried coming up with a plausible excuse, but he could see right through you,

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" You nodded your head and looked away from him, shame spread across your face. He smirked at you lovingly and his hand moved down in between your thighs and rubbed against your sensitive, slick nether regions. A surprised, pleasure filled moan escaped you as he spoke,

"Don't think about her Y/N, right now the only thing I want you to think about is me. Because what I'm thinking about in this moment, the only thing I care about right now, is you. I want to please you, to touch you, and make you feel loved. Shes in the past, and you're here with me, and I want it to stay that way for as long as possible," he said as his pace became more intense, pleasure surged through your body in blissful spasms. You found a sliver of comfort knowing that he wanted you as much as you wanted him in this moment, and at that point you let yourself go completely. You couldn't hold in your moans and ragged breaths as his pace became almost too much to bare. His slender fingers slowed a bit as he moved down your slit and inserted a digit in to you. You covered your mouth and moaned sinfully into your palm as he went slowly in and out of you,

"Uncover your mouth sweetheart, I wanna hear every sound you make for me" sincerity and need dripping off his tongue as he spoke. You moved your hand, but still tried to keep the volume minimal. He added another digit and his pace quickened once more. Your moans started to become more frequent as you felt your orgasm approaching steadily. He curled his fingers against your walls, earning a squeal from you,

"Spike, if you keep that up," you said pitifully in between gasps. This didn't stop him from slowing his pace though.

"I want you to cum for me pretty girl," he said sinfully as he kept up his pace. As if on cue, you clenched around his fingers and let your orgasm flow through you. The moan you let out was much louder than you would've liked, but you didn't care, you felt amazing. He pulled out of you, his fingers covered in your slick.

He wiped in on his pants before removing them hastily, revealing his painful hard cock. The tip a flushed rosy color and a bead of precum slowly dripping down. You crawled over to him and looked up into his eyes pleadingly. He gave a slight nod, his breathing hitched at the the thought of what you were about to do. You took the tip into your mouth and swirled your tongue it, tasting the salt from his precum. You teased the tip a little more, earning light groans and ragged breaths from Spike before taking him fully into your mouth. He let out a whimper as you began to take I'm entirely into your mouth and down your throat. His noises like music to your as you want painfully slow,

"Fuck, it feels so good," he groaned as he ran a hand through your hair, wanting to take control, but not giving in to his primal desires. He wanted to be gentle with you and made sure that you were as comfortable as possible. His fingers ran through your hair as you began to quicken your pace, feeling the tip of his cock lightly hitting the back of your throat. It wasn't enough to hurt you, but you definitely knew it would be something you'd feel the next day. You could feel him pulsating against your hollowed cheeks, knowing he would last too much longer if you kept this up. You found yourself in a rhythm that made him quiver and whimper everytime you took him fully, hoping you'd get him to finish as soon as you could. But, despite Spike wanting nothing more than to cum down your throat, he gently stopped you. His cock sliding out of your mouth with a pop,

"Not yet pretty girl," he said wiping away the little bit of saliva that dipped from the corner of you mouth.

He lifted you up to him and kissed you with heated passion, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he pushed you back on to the bed. His hand roamed down to your thighs and proceeded to spread them,

"You ready," he asked in a hot, breathy whisper against your ear.

"Yes Spike, please," you pleaded, your skin on flushed and sensitive as ever and your pussy aching. He slowly thrusted into you, you clenched around him as a reflex to the slight relief you felt. Both of you moaning at the initial thrust,

"Fuck," he cried out. He brought you in close and began to slowly thrust in to you once you were fully adjusted. His fingers traced circled on your shoulder blades and he placed butterfly kisses down your forehead and cheeks. Feeling him pick up the pace, your moans became more prominent and carried throughout the room. You found yourself submitting to him once more as your moans got louder and louder with each thrust, not caring who heard the two of you.

"I love the sounds you make Y/N," he groaned out. You gave an incoherent gasp in response. He brought his gaze to yours,

"You're so fucking pretty like this, taking my cock so well. You're doing amazing sweetheart," he said losing himself to your gaze. The look of pure love and lust in your eyes was nearly too much to bear for him. He always thought you were an attractive person, even before you two started doing this. But as he got to know you, he thought you were one of the prettiest people he'd ever had the pleasure of meeting. And when he first saw you writhing under him, he thought he'd met an angel. The way you shivered under his touch, the way you looked at him with your starstruck eyes, eveything about you when you two were together made him admire you even more.

"So fuckin' beautiful," he said to himself. Lost in the thought of you being with him like this. You gripped at his lower back harshly as he began to bottom you out, losing control of his rhythm. His whimpers and your moans filled the room like a symphony, he whispered sweet nothing in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were and how much he loved being with you. You felt his cock pulsing once again against your slick walls, he was close, as were you. Your moans turned into pure, sinful squealing once again and you felt another orgasm threatening to wash over you,

"Spike, I-" He cut you off before you could finish.

"I know sweetheart. Just a little longer, please" he said said kissing your forehead sweetly. He lost complete control at that point and was fixated on making you cum with him. His thrusts were sporadic and needy, and his cock harder than ever as he continued to fuck senseless. His whimpers were now rhythmatic as he finally moaned out,

"Cum for me pretty girl." You gave out a pleasure filled moan as you came all over his still thrusting cock. The clench from your swollen pussy and the now dripping slick was more than enough to push him over the edge,

"Fuucckk," he drew out in an absolute sinful whimper as he pulled out of you and let out thick spurts of hot cum all over your inner thighs and pussy.

He stroked himself a few times to get all his cum out while taking a few deep, draw out sighs of relief. He must of been holding it in for a while because it was quite a load he let out, not that you cared, you were just happy you were able to be with him. You sighed in relief as he grabbed some tissues off your nightstand and cleaned you up then in turn cleaning himself. When he finished he threw the dirty tissues away and crawled into bed with you, covering you both in the blanket and pulling you in close for a sweet, loving cuddle. You began to drift off to sleep from exhaustion when you heard him say,

"I'm happy to have someone like you Y/N, " he whispered. You turned to him and kissed his cheek as he began to drift off,

"Same here," you said as you pulled him into the crook of your neck and the two of you fell asleep soundly in one another's embrace.

[cheemers-writing-archive]

The Bar (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

(a/n: I’ve literally never been inside a bar so I’m going off of movies and stuff, sorry if this is inaccurate!)

The ring of the bell. Despite the clamor of everything around you, from the glasses clinking to the drunks belly-laughing, you’ve trained yourself to hear that bell. That meant you either gained or lost a customer, and it was important to notice who arrived and left. Luckily for you, the one who arrived was one of your favorites.

“Spike, welcome back!” you called. The man turned to look at you, and his lips involuntarily rose up to a smile. He noticed a free stool in front of you, and helped himself as he walked up and sat down.

“How’s my favorite bartender doing?” Spike leaned forward on the counter and rested his head on his hand.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old.” You grabbed a glass from the ceiling and spun it on your finger. “The usual?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Spike said. He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t have the money for that.”

“Well, then, this one’s on the house.” You grabbed the glass again and started filling it with alcohol. “I can’t say the same for getting information out of me, though.”

“What if I replace my free drink with free information?”

You laughed. “Well, it’s a little too late for that. I already poured your fill. I’ll tell you what: one drink you buy, three questions you get to ask me.”

Spike nodded. “Then I’ll go ahead and buy that drink.” He handed you a few woolongs and took the glass from your hands. “I needed to ask three questions, anyway.”

“Alright, fire away, then.” You leaned down, meeting eye to eye with Spike. For a brief moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks were redder than usual.

“Well, then, first question.” Spike said, setting a piece of paper down in front of you. “Do you know this guy?”

The person depicted had a buzzcut that was dyed green and earrings that went down to their chin. That was their downfall. “I’ve actually seen someone just like that,” you told Spike. “They left this bar just a few minutes ago.”

“What?” Spike said, a bit louder than he meant to. “Which way did they go?”

“I saw their shadow run by my window, so I’d say to the right, once you step foot outside the bar.”

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver!” Spike quickly left his seat and headed for the door, but stopped just as soon as he was about to leave and slowly returned to the bar.

“What’s wrong, cowboy?” you asked. “Aren’t you going to wrangle your bounty?”

“I forgot to ask my third question.” Spike had a half smile and a hand behind his neck. However, once he cleared his throat, his familiar smug grin returned. “Do you wanna get some coffee later this evening? You and me?”

That question made you do a double take. A date? He just asked you on a date, right? From the way he was getting more and more uncomfortable with your silence, that seemed to be the case. Finally, after collecting your thoughts once again, you gave him an answer.

“Postponing your bounty chase to ask me out? You must be serious,” you laughed.

“I’m going after them as soon as you give me an answer.” Spike said.

“Well, then, I won’t hold you any longer. I’d love to get some coffee with you.”

Spike let out a huge sigh, then ran towards the door again. “I’ll pick you up from here at eight, got it?” he yelled, then bolted outside.

You let out another laugh. “I look forward to it, Spike Spiegel.”