#jet black x faye valentine

[mx-sinisters]

sin’s twelve days of christmas gifts; 2023

jet black & faye valentine ❄ happy holidays @eclaire-and-pocky

[bellpeppersand-beef]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Cowboy Bebop (Anime) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jet Black/Faye Valentine Characters: Jet Black, Faye Valentine Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Angst and Feels, everyone is fucking sad Summary:

Grief can do funny things to a person.

Like make a hard-ass ex ISSP officer and a professional con artist tell the truth for once in their lives.

[luvie-42]

Y'all...Y'ALL-

Why is nobody talking abt this lanky ass man's LEGS????

He seems like the type to randomly bounce his thigh while you're sitting on his lap and then laugh like a maniac from your reaction 😭

Like y'all would be chilling in the Bebop while Edward and Ein go off and run somewhere as he sits on one of the yellow chairs and you come up and sit on his lap.

He takes this as his chance to tease you a bit and as you get comfortable, you look up at him as his big silly grin shows up on his face. '𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐, 𝑺𝒑𝒊𝒌𝒆?"

And before you can react, he bounces his leg suddenly and looks at your flustered and shocked face as you we're blushing furiously. "𝙇𝙤𝙤𝙠𝙨 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙄 𝙜𝙤𝙩 𝙮𝙖, 𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙚~"

Now he's laughing hard as you hide your flushed face in his chest

LET'S BE HONEST WE'D ALL GET ON OUR KNEES FOR HIM-

[venushasvixens]

Imagine FaceTiming on a mission, everything is going completely wrong, the bounty may be lost…

And you see this gorgeous face.

[allicaj]

[necronyancy]

BTW. IF YOU EVEN CARE.

[loveneverfades]

[spikelovesjulia]

[inkpot909]

When The Kids are Asleep (One-Shot)

↳ Spike Spiegel x Fem!Reader: She/her pronouns are used for the reader.

Summary: Insecurity is the poison that kills relationships before they even have a chance begin. Luckily Spike Spiegel is around to set things right; to let you know that it’s all in your head.

Warning(s): Swearing. Slight nsfw.

Sitting upright on the Bebop’s bright yellow couch, your mind is focused intently on the book you hold open before you.

Not often do you get to indulge in a new story. Although reading is a hobby you enjoy, being a member of the Bebop means your priorities are understandably elsewhere. It’s not unlike your companions to splurge on hobby items and clothes, but a soft heart makes your approach to spending different. Or more accurately- your lack thereof.

But the latest bounty was certainly a rough one- with a hefty reward to match. So much so, that Faye let out a long huff of relief after taking her share of the reward, rather than putting up an argument over the amount or suggesting to go window-shopping with you. Regardless, it just so happened after collecting your own fair share, you found a secondhand store on your walk back to the Bebop. You’d stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking up at the large sign displaying a proud title for the quant store. Disappearing inside, you return just minutes later along with an award for a job well-done and a gleeful expression. 

And better yet, a tiring bounty calls for people to turn in early. Sleep entices you, just as it coaxed all your companions to bed. However, to hell if you aren’t going to take advantage of a silent Bebop. Staying up in comfortable quiet isn’t something you plan for often, even less does it ever actually come to fruition. In your head, tonight was decidedly different, and the universe mercifully granted you that desired peace.

There’s only one light on in the common area, just bright enough to make your book legible. With a head bent down, your hair casts a shadow over your relaxed face. Shadows dance around your body’s curves, vegged out in contentment. Just by glancing at your unmoving form, it would be easy for one to imagine the long day you’ve had.

Lost in your story, the small kinks that accompany the Bebop fly over your head. Distant sounds of machinery are drowned out by the flood your book provides, and you’re right there with them. Floating down further and further until your surroundings are completely off the mind.

“Don’t you think this Jean character is a bit of an airhead?” a voice calls from above you. Jumping, a tiny yelp escapes your lips.

Lifting your head, you find the source of the voice only when you crank your neck back further. The muscles around it and across your shoulders groan, but a pair of mismatched brown eyes keep you from listening.

Spike’s standing right behind the couch, looming over you. His front pressed to the back of the couch, lazily holding the weight of his bent torso. Your faces are mere centimeters apart, something that doesn’t hinder his bored expression. His eyes stay glued to yours, forcing your neck forward, pulling your own from his.

To think simply his body language and carefree voice is enough to make you jumpier than Ein on special mushrooms…

“I don’t understand what you mean,” you mumble, flicking the pages of your book.

“I don’t understand how you can read that crap,” Spike replies, hoisting his body over the couch. He lands on his feet and smoothly plops down onto the cushions next to you. Grinning, he adds, “What? Am I not entertaining enough?”

Your eyes widen, the answer to his question dying on your lips.

Deep inside you, a warm feeling has been growing. The foolish hope that Spike meant all the sweet nothings he threw your way. Casual flirting has long been a staple of your relationship. Spike oozed confidence around you, a trick you happily fall for each time. You stroke his ego and he flusters you beyond what words can express. Ever since the fateful day you’d stowed away on the Bebop- desperate for food, desperate for a home -your relationship with him had been far different in comparison to anyone else.

But even still, insecurity plagued your mind. Aren’t his actions all part of some game? Chasing your reactions only to pass the time; to make the life he leads a tiny bit easier. Born from boredom and nothing else.

To believe you’re special… how positively laughable.

“I didn’t hear you at all,” you sheepishly admit, “I thought everyone went to bed.”

“I tried; too pent up from today to get any shut-eye,” Spike replies, staring down seemingly at nothing. “I was practicing some fighting forms, but needed a break. Then I found your cute little silhouette curled up on the couch and the night’s been looking up ever since.”

“Even if I didn’t see you?”

Spike’s eyebrows furrowed, waving his hands up in the air dramatically. “I don’t understand what that book has that I don’t!”

For one thing, it’s both forward and honest with me, you think, not daring to say such a thing to his face. Regardless of your inner bitterness, his words bring a smile to your face and a laugh follows suit. “Keep reading and you’ll find out,” you quip, raising a brow.

“No way in hell,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, “I’ll leave the reading to the critically gifted.”

“So you admit it- you’re completely clueless. Didn’t even know what you’re criticizing,” you test playfully, gently setting the book down on the coffee table.

“Oi! I still know an idiot when I see one- and that Jean is one hell of a brainless protagonist.”

You snort, finding his confidence endearing. Spike always tried pushing your buttons in this way, and regardless of the fight you put up, you always surrender to his occasional goofiness. Even still…

You sigh, moving your gaze from him. This isn’t the first time he’s sought you out specifically while by yourself. The whole dynamic… it makes your heart flutter with both positive and negative possibilities. Your heart desperately cries for just a chance he may think the world of you, while your head shuts down all hope.

In the moment, you feel both sides collide with one another. Without thinking properly beforehand, you finally meet his gaze head-on once again. A frown now is spread across your face, and his shoulders dip as you ask, “You do this with Faye too, don’t you?”

Spike’s lighthearted expression twists into a confused one, tilting his head to the side. For someone who hates Ein as much as he claims, he sure as hell shares some of the same mannerisms as the pooch. “What are you going on about?” he hums, keeping his voice purposefully low on volume.

“This,” you wildly gesture to both him and yourself, “This-… this…”

“This, what...?” he coaxed, clearly not about to let this go despite your flaming cheeks. This is a bed you’ve never wanted to make for yourself, far too aware that Spike would make damn sure you sleep in it. Sleep deprivation and a long day are just the straw to break the camel’s back.

“This… flirting game you play,” you go on, voice shaking, “It’s flustering… and you never do it in front of everyone else.”

“You want me to?” he asks, genuinely surprised. He puckers his lips in thought, adding in a mumble, “I thought you were the shy type.”

“What?”

“What-?”

The two of you stop speaking, baffled faces glued to one another. Maybe tiredness from a long day really isn’t to blame. Perhaps it’s the fact that everyone else is in bed that makes you so direct- an opportune time. This is between you and Spike alone, which is why you've never gone to Faye or Jet for support.

Faye... you ponder. Or maybe it’s because I’m always nervous whenever Faye and Spike are close. They had both stepped up much today, working together flawlessly despite bickering the entire time. It feels ridiculous to be so worried; it’s clear they cannot stand one another. Yet they look good together... that much you have to admit. And although they deny it profusely, they share a certain amount of concern for each other.

Whatever insecurity is specifically plaguing you at this very moment, one thing is for certain to you: I’m sick of being flirted with- frustrated with the teasing and the sly looks. What this is… it isn’t tangible. It’s not real. 

“Y/n…” Spike sighs, dropping his head and pulling you from your mind. He’s turned away now, but continues to sneak peaks at you out the corner of his good eye. “What do you think I take you for?”

Your hands tremble. Once again, you have a hard time answering. Instead of coming up with something this time around, you suddenly stand up from the couch. You know what? Maybe you can run away. Stretching, you let out an obnoxious yawn. “Don’t worry about it,” you act, “Anyways, I really should-“

“Y/n…” Spike mutters, halting your movement. His voice is quiet- soft, even. As he speaks, his hand reaches out for one of your own. “Talk to me... what's so wrong all of a sudden?” His pleading eyes leave you no choice, as well as a skip of your heartbeat.

“I- but, you…” you stutter, slowly sitting back down. Seemingly pleased with this, his grip on you loosens. If only a little bit.

Spike’s eyes travel around your face, searching. For a moment, his eyebrows knit together even further. “Y/n… you deserve more than you give yourself credit,” he sighs, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling his hand away.

Lifting your gaze, it’s now his turn to bashfully avoid eye-contact. Placing both hands behind his head, he kicks his feet up in a quick attempt to seem nonchalant. But Spike performs laziness as if it’s a career. To the point where if he’s not truly relaxed, everyone knows- you know.

“You always say things like that,” you huff, unable to help your bitterness. Now that the cat’s getting dragged out the bag, there’s no point in hiding your frustration. After all, if it is one big game- you won’t find it all too amusing. “But only now… only when we’re alone.”

“So?”

Frustration boils within your chest. “So!? So you need to stop. It’s confusing.”

“You’ve never stopped me before.”

His words eat you alive. Spike is right- you cannot say that you’ve ever lectured him over his flirtatiousness before tonight. But him being right isn’t on your current agenda, which means he must be wrong.

“Not true!” you huff. The face he pulls makes it clear that he is buying the lie even less than you are yourself.

Sighing once more, Spike’s body dips into the couch even further. He scoots closer to you, pausing and waiting for you to pull away or chastise him. When you do neither, he throws his arm around you casually.

“Spike…?” you ask, frustration diffusing at his facial expression. He shuffles himself even closer, both your thighs brushing up against one another. Glancing between your eyes and lips, he finally says, “When the kids are all asleep… isn’t it only natural to flirt out of sight? Trust me, you've always been worth the wait.”

Flirt…

“What are you trying to say...?”

“It's clear that you like me. I'm not oblivious, y'know,” he chuckles, “I can see how you stare, and how you react to my every action is only more evidence piling together. But you always get so shy... I thought you wouldn’t be happy with me openly flirting with you in front of everyone; they can be quite the teasing bunch.”

Blinking, you drink up his words with a baffled expression plastered on your face. In his own way, he makes it plain as day: This isn’t a game. Fun for him, certainly, but not in the sick, selfish way you had wrongfully assumed.

“Is… is that really how you see it?” you ask, voice hopeful. “You're just... honestly trying to flirt with me?”

“Of course,” he makes a face, “I dunno why you’d think I’d act this way with Faye.”

You shrug, “She’s three times the woman I’ll ever-”

A pair of heated lips cut off your words. Across the room, you hear a droplet of water fall from a creaky pipe above to the harsh floor. For a split moment, Spike stayed completely still against your lips. Your eyes are glued wide open, observing his which are screwed tightly shut. His hand had instinctively reached forward, gripping your forearm in a silent plea for you to stay put. His buttocks is lifted into the air, uncomfortably keeping himself bent down and holding his position.

Just now mentally recovering from the action, Spike’s lips gently pull away. He mutters cheekily, “You really need to stop comparing yourself to others- and stop talking about them to me,” He plants a kiss to your lips, ghosting his lips over them as he adds, “I only wanna focus on you, sweetheart.” He tilts his head to the side, nose poking your cheek as he meets your lips once more. You weakly kiss him back, lips quivering and hands sweaty. Despite your nerves, you allow him to pepper your lips with short but desperate kisses.

A minute passes before he pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as he slowly sinks back into the couch cushions. He’s sitting much closer to you this time around, your legs touching and torsos twisted in each others’ direction. Something sad taints his eyes, sinking your rapidly-beating heart. Giving your arm a gentle squeeze, he tells you in a whisper, “You really didn’t get it before... did you?”

“I-... I suppose not,” you reply, breathless.

“I’m sorry I confused you,” he murmurs.

“Spike… it’s okay… I assumed the worst and-...”

He raises a hand, a passive request for you to stop your sentence there. Following along, you shut your mouth again. A smile plays on his lips, using the hand he’d raised to cup your chin. His lithe fingers brush against your skin with care, tilting your head so that you felt no other option than to look into his eyes.

“I like when you say my name…” he practically purrs, wrapping his free hand around your waist. “I don’t wanna have to hear anyone else say it.” Your cheeks turn a flushed red color, only egging him on to continue. “And…” he nuzzles your nose with his own, “And I’d love it if you'd indulge me some more.”

“S-Spike…” you sigh, heart leaping thousands of feet away from any ground surface. He bites his lip, but waits for you to finish your thought this time. Instead, you merely sigh again and lean forward.

Getting the hint, a tug around your waist pulls you towards him, and once more you're engulfed in his kisses. Lifting your hands, you rest them against his chest and kiss him back. His hand moves from your chin to the back of your head. Spike’s fingertips massage your scalp, running through your hair and making a quick mess of it. His lips move faster than before; the sound of sloppy kisses fill the common area’s late-night serenity.

Spike bites down on your lower lip, wiping his tongue over the tiny mark temporarily left behind before slipping inside your mouth. You sigh, a tiny whimper accompanying the release of air. His tongue dances around yours. “Spike…” you hum between kisses. Your hands slide up his chest, wrapping around his neck. Your body lifts as you do so, now pressed against him and radiating more warmth between you two.

He pulls away, stomach visually rising and falling. Loosening his tie first, he also releases the first couple of buttons running down the front of his shirt. His bare chest pokes out as he leans back, propping himself up only by his elbows. Grabbing your hand, he beckons you closer with half-lidded eyes, and guides your body to lay comfortably on top of him.

“Come here…” he sighs, tugging you forward by the collar of your shirt. Lips conform to one another, kissing and lightly biting. A hand travels down your side, cupping the bottom of your ass.

You use his hand to direct the movement of your hips, slowly rocking against his. A shiver rolls down your spine at the contact, making contact with something hardening against your clothed core. Spike pushes back, softly groaning into your lips, “Fuck... this is okay?”

You simply nod, not trusting your words.

Shaking his head, he trails his kisses along your jaw. Pushing you further above him, Spike plants soft kisses down to your neck. “Mmh-” you huff, tilting your head and giving him more access.

“I need to hear you say it…” he grumbles, grinding against you with added vigor. “Please, baby…”

You nod again, eyes fluttering shut. He kisses a spot where your jawline and neck meet, sucking a mark onto your otherwise clear skin. Spike grins; your neck’s a blank canvas he intends to utilize.

“Yes…” you mutter, a tremble present in your voice. “Spike... yes, it's okay…”

Biting down on your neck, his hand traces from your ass back up your side again. It lingers for a moment before moving to your front, cupping your breast through your shirt. “Say that again,” he moans, “My name like that…”

“Spike…” you sigh, giggling delicately at his desperation.

“Again...?” he pleads, pulling away from your neck. He peers up at you, eyes hazy with want. He slowly moves his hand down your stomach, tracing the hem of your shorts with a single fingertip.

You press your forehead against his, arching your back. “Spike…” you groan, bucking your hips eagerly. Smirking, he wraps a finger around the material’s waistband and snaps it teasingly against your skin. With a few more kisses planted to your lips, he gingerly slips his hand in your shorts. Moving with a sloth-like pace, his fingers reach your clothed core and gently rub against your wetness. “Mmh... Spike…” you moan, not needing a request this time.

“What the hell-?!” A booming voice shouts from the doorway leading out into the Bebop’s main corridor. A metal crash and another sharp sound follows immediately.

You and Spike freeze, clinging to each other despite the compromising position. His hand is still halfway down your shorts, his shirt is unbuttoned, and the both of you are sweating buckets. Add rosy cheeks- as well as widened eyes -and it’s no doubt the two of you look like a couple of deers in headlights.

Moving in tandem, you both turn to the doorway. Jet is standing there, just as frozen solid as you’d been a second ago. On the floor is a metal watering can, still emptying out onto the floor and getting the man’s shoes soaked. Next to it is a tiny bonsai, roots and dirt seeping from the now-broken pot.

You sit up, finally finding yourself. Spike removes his hands from you completely, and you do the same. Hastily, you trip over your words in an attempt to explain, “I-I-... Jet... we-we were just, uhh-...”

Jet waves his arms and shakes his head. “No no! I get it!” he roughly exclaims, turning back around. “Seriously! Bring it to a damn bedroom you perverts... other people live here you know!” he shouts the last few words, walking back down the hall he’d originally came through.

“Shit…” you mumble, climbing off Spike.

He sits up, pulling a cigarette box from his pant’s pocket. Watching his hands move, Spike grabs a single cigarette and shoves it between his lips. “I suppose I should’ve mentioned that the kids weren’t actually asleep; meant it as a figure of speech. Sorry about that,” he chuckles, inhaling a huff. Your cheeks flare pink.

“Spike!”

[mira-belcul18]

I'm about to start generally tweaking. Today is the last day to watch cowboy bebop the movie on tubi and I'm bout to start generally crying

[bebopcrew]

Join @bebopcrew for our Relationship Week Event! Here's your chance to share fanfics, art, headcanons, metas, and more about your favorite relationships in Cowboy Bebop.

Here's the schedule:

February 15: Spike/Jet/Faye February 16: Spike/Faye February 17: Spike/Jet February 18: Julia/Faye February 19: Jet/Faye February 20: Other Relationships/Free Day

Remember to mention us @bebopcrew in your posts and we’ll reblog your work here! You can also add it to our AO3 Collection if you prefer.

If you have any questions, check out our FAQ or drop a question in our ask. We can’t wait to see your work!

[mx-sinisters]

@bebopcrew; relationship week

day five ★ jet & faye

[bellpeppersand-beef]

it was Faye’s birthday yesterday, so she can have a little a old man smoochin. as a belated birthday treat

[luvie-42]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐘/𝐍.

-𝙰𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚢'𝚊𝚕𝚕, 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃 𝙷𝙰𝚂 𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙴!

-𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃 𝟷𝟾+, 𝙵𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙴𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 (pt.2), 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶, 𝙷𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙴𝚈𝚂/𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝚃𝙴𝚂. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚏 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚍!

-He watched as you walked in, his brown eyes locked on to your every curve, your ass and thighs. He couldn't help but notice just how perfect they were. That body drove him crazy and it felt good, so so good. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard you speak. "You're staring." You said, your lips turning into a smirk, your right eye turning towards him. You then sat on the sofa next to him as he blushed a bit.

-"I know…" he said confidently, his eyes locked and glued to your body. He didn't look away from you, or try to hide his staring at you. "I have no intentions not to look at a masterpiece." he then gave you a smirk that was the perfect mix between confidence, arrogance, and flirtation. He had no shame. And as your eyes met his, he couldn't help but feel a wave of pleasure wash over him. He felt his lips move a little.

-It was nobody else but you and Spike in the common room of the bebop as Jet left to get a bounty, Faye was spending her money as always, and Edward was somewhere around the bebop with Ein. You felt a bit bold and decided to tease the poor man who was drooling over your curvy body and sit on his lap, as you took your seat on his lap you could feel his cock poking at your thigh already.

-His breath caught in his throat as he felt you come up to him and sit on his lap. His brown eyes studied you, the feeling of your body against his was something else. His hands were gently placed on your hips, and his mind wondered. "Go on, you've been begging for it at this point." You teased him so hard and he was trying his best not to fuck you right then and there. "Oh I know I'm begging for it, doll." he said with a smirk as he stared into your eyes. "But are you willing to give it to me…darling?" he mumbled and leaned forward, his lips almost touching yours.

-"Anything. Pull my top off, kiss my lips, play with my body, I don't mind at all." Those were the only words he heard you speak as his hands instantly went to your crop top to pull it off. Spike couldn't help but grin when he heard your command. Alright then. His hands slowly pulled your crop top to the side, exposing your ample breasts. His eyes studied your body, taking in every inch of it as he brought his right hand up to your lips, his lips touching you. You tasted good. He let out a moan as their lips pressed together. His tongue moved into your mouth, his tongue dancing with yours as his hands explored your body. He was having a lot of fun with you. He continued to kiss you, his tongue rubbing against yours. Both tongues danced inside your mouth as his body was filled with pleasure. His left hand moved down to your hips and ass, touching your curves as his other hand continued to explore you. He didn't want it to end. He enjoyed doing it. For all the times he thought of you, he could only imagine what you'd be like to touch. Now, now he knew. And he wanted 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲.

-Spike pushed himself even closer to you, his hands continuing to explore that body of yours while his cock was still pressed against you. He continued to kiss you deeply and intensely, his body trembling as the pleasure filled him to the brim. His fingers reached the top of your thighs, his hand going just a little bit further as he groaned into your mouth.

-He was going to have you tonight, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗻𝗼 𝗱𝗲𝗯𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘁.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ 𝑻𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈!♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

𝙋𝙏.2 𝘼𝙏 90 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀𝙎 𝙊𝙍 𝙎𝙊𝙈𝙀𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂!

[venushasvixens]

Your coms are pinging, indicating of a incoming message.

You see this bad boy pop up.

Answer or decline?

Choose carefully, your life depends on it

[spike-and-faye]

For real write in your answers in the tags!!!