bebopcrew

[bebopcrew]

"What... what..." Jet's mouth continued to move although his brain had given up on providing words to properly articulate his confusion at the scene spread before his eyes.

"It is Bebop's birthday, Jet-person! Ed has decorated! Celebrations shall commence at 0800!" Edward cried jubilantly, grabbing Jet's hands and swinging them violently up and down.

The train yard in his mind was home to a few different trains now moving smoothly out along their tracks, or trying to at least. Rumbling along like a hearty chuckle, an engine built of dark amusement at how cranky their other shipmates would be if Ed truly did plan to wake Spike and Faye at 8 in the morning Ganymede time. The notion of the ship having a birthday was a small, quiet train engine chugging along without many train cars of additional questions, though he felt strongly that it was the safest inquisition to proceed with. And then there was the currently derailed train that represented his bafflement at what had happened to his ship.

Oblong balloons in a variety of colors were clumsily tied off or taped up to anything that would host the... er... repurposed condoms that Ed had scavenged from who knew where. The fact that each was slightly buoyant against the subtle breeze indicated the fact that she must have found a helium tank to fill the latex rubbers with. It was a small comfort to him that she hadn't blown them up using her own oxygen and mouth. Never mind that she wouldn't have known their true purpose, though at least they were obviously unused.

She had shredded the wrappers and turned them into confetti which she had blown out of a funnel when Jet had first stepped onto the deck with the simple relaxing idea of watching the sun rise on his home world. The funnel had not been unused - it had left a ring of black on Ed's lips from the oil that had been poured through it most recently.

His first task, before even getting any answers, would have to be to wipe that crud off her face.

There were chalk drawings EVERYWHERE. He could identify a collection of box shapes for hop scotch and a few different tic-tac-toe boards awaiting the X's and O's, and drawings of Ein and the rest of the crew. It looked like she had tried to sketch out some of their bounties. All the zipcraft were parked on the deck along the edges of the flight deck and each one was liberally covered in tassels made of whatever clothing Ed had been able to procure from within the ship or elsewhere for all he knew.

She had set up a table as well, he recognized it as the one they'd used on Io when camping outside of the ship while repairs were underway. It was loaded with Piyoko and eggs (raw? boiled? no way to know) and with every ashtray from inside, still loaded with remnants of cigarettes and stogies and even a few cannabis joints. Dozens of open beer cans were set out also, fallen soldiers from whenever they'd been able to afford a case of beer and, rather embarrassingly, passed out before finishing the goods. There were also a handful of grimy glass bottles, which she dragged him over to, and gestured proudly at her findings.

"The bottles are dusty but the liquor is clean!" She gleefully proclaimed. "Bebop was absatively posilutely full of treasures for the crew! Ed saved treats from our last Earth visit and dug through all the storage rooms for the rest! No hiding place was left undisturbed!"

A click-clack sound reached their ears as Ein emerged from the interior of the ship and made his way on puppy paws in need of a nail trim over to the pair by the "refreshments." Jet looked down at the new arrival and noticed that the dog had been outfitted with one of Spike's thin ties, dragging along the dirty deck under Ein's belly, and had Faye's headband perched in front of his ears. Judging by the way he kept flicking his ears, it wasn't something he was a fan of.

Of course, Faye and Spike wouldn't appreciate the costume either.

"Edward will wake the others now! Party time, woo woo!" She announced. Releasing Jet's hands, she bounded over to the RedTail and leapt into the cockpit, activating the stereo system with a screech of delight.

The sudden blast of music made Jet wince at the unexpected volume - he hadn't realized Faye's ship could even produce sounds that loud. Once he acclimated though he realized it wasn't terribly overpowering as long as you were standing in the open air.

Ed was cackling madly as she dove from the ship, landing in a somersault and then vaulting to her feet so she could rub her hands together like a maniacal villain.

"What even is all this, Ed? How'd you get all this stuff up here?" Jet asked, stepping over to her and taking Spike's jacket down from the gun of Faye's ship so he could use the sleeve to finally address the issue of the oil on Ed's face.

"Easy peasy! Spike-person leaves his key in the ignition for quick escapes. Faye-Faye was snoring so she didn't notice Ed taking the bracelet to activate her ship. All the stuff was, well, all over! The laundry room, the bridge, the work shop... clutter clutter everywhere but Ed has made it into artful decorations! Oh! The balloons came from Spike-person's room but he never sleeps in there so Ed was able to loot the place while he was on the couch." She nodded in self satisfaction. "While researching everyone's birthdays, Ed realized even the ship has a day of celebration! Today is the day that the Bebop was first commissioned for fishing! What a long strange trip it's been, eh?"

"Huh. Well... that, uh, that makes sense." Logical indeed.

"Ed thinks that the Bebop deserves a present. A new baby!"

And just like that she'd lost him again.

"Sorry, what?"

Grinning wildly, Ed pointed at the Hammerhead and then the Swordfish II and then the RedTail. "These are the babies, of course! Ed would like one too, please!"

"I... uh... huh..." Jet couldn't deny the usefulness of Ed having her own craft but the idea of finding one in decent shape that was also affordable was daunting.

"Ed discovered many interesting things while finding when everyone's welcome to the world day." Ed said then, adopting an air of casualness that immediately made Jet nervous. She hummed briefly and then gave him a wicked look. "Ed is not entirely sure how to blackmail but... well..." She paused and cleared her throat before beginning to sing.

When you're falling awake And you take stock of the new day And you hear your voice croak As you choke on what you need to say Well, don't you fret, don't you fear I will give you good cheer

Life's a long song -

Jet's jaw dropped. His chin literally hit his chest. No!

Ed stooped down to scoop Ein into her arms and smirked at Jet.

"As Edward suspected... Jet-person's parents must have had a nostalgic draw to more than just blues and jazz, eh, Jethro?" She snickered.

"Ed, if you breathe a WORD of this to the others..." He trailed off, no threat springing to mind in the wake of the shock of having someone notice and realize who he'd been named for. Despite having written Jethro on the birth certificate, no one in his family had ever actually called him by his full name. As a baby, it must have seemed too big to attach to someone so small and so he'd been just Jet since he could remember.

"A baby for the Bebop?" Ed said again, changing her expression to one of pure innocence as she snuggled Ein up under her chin to further impress upon him the cuteness of the duo.

"What the fuck is going on out here?" Faye's voice, raised in a holler, came to them from the open hangar. "Why is my ship parked out here? What the fuck music are you desecrating my speakers with?!"

Jet ground his teeth together. Time was running out.

"Okay, Ed. Just hold your horses and sit tight, all right? I can't say when we can make it happen but I promise we will." He hurriedly assured her.

Ed dropped Ein to the deck, a move that merely startled the corgi who dashed off once he'd gotten his legs under him, so she could spit on her palm and hold it out towards him. Jet grimaced.

"A dry handshake would have done fine." He muttered.

"The spit is tied to the words of the promise!" Ed informed him.

Sighing, Jet spat on his own hand and shook.

"Was he wearing one of my ties?" Spike's voice reached them now as well. "ED! What did you do to my ship?!"

Cartwheeling off towards the newcomers, Ed shrieked with happiness.

"Happy birthday, Bebop! Come, friends! It is a time of celebration! Let the rejoicing begin!"

#aldreantreuperi

[bebopcrew]

Original Template

#twin-skelletons

[bebopcrew]

@febuwhump prompt: "I'm doing this because I care about you."

***

"Your father thinks I've lost my mind. He thinks I'm out of line with what I'm doing here... With what I'm letting them try... He's argued himself hoarse about how this is disrespectful to your life, how we aren't being fair to your memory or to our own grief... How we need to just let you go... To bury you and move on... He's trapped in the idea that what happened means you're dead. I love him, but he's just... Wrong. He's so afraid to hope... So afraid to let science give you a chance to breathe again. He thinks it's cruel, what I've consigned you to. Am I mad? I don't feel like it. I don't feel... consumed... or, or, driven... or like I'm spitting in the face of some heartless god. What god would give us you only to rip you away in the dawn of your adult life? You are so young, my darling. You still have your entire life ahead of you, a future impossibly bright to greet with your inexhaustible optimism. You've always been tough and stubborn and brilliant, my child. You deserve to have a shot at making a beautiful life for yourself. I fear this may destroy us, what I am committing to today. But the accident already wrecked us, truthfully. At least this way... Maybe someday... They say you can't hear me, that you won't know I've been here this entire time, desperate to see your eyes open... I don't care how long it takes or how much it costs us. I'll gladly drain our savings. I just wanted you to know... I'm not doing this because I'm crazy. It's not because I have lost sight of reality or have abandoned myself to fantasy - it's not any of the nonsense your father has shouted at me in this very room. I'm doing this because I care about you. Beyond all rhyme or reason. Beyond anything I've ever felt for anyone. I knew when you were born that I'd move heaven and earth for you, my sweet child. So I am pouring everything possible into this desperate chance that you can be revived someday. I love you, Faye, so much. I swear you will get your chance to live."

#aldreantreuperi

[bebopcrew]

Did Adrian attend college?

The only formal education Adrian received was through the ISSP Academy. His mentor, Detective Michael Ramírez, forged Adrian’s credentials so he could get around the background check. Adrian’s ability to quickly adapt to any situation in addition to being highly recommended by Michael put him on the fast track to becoming a detective.

During his time at the academy, Adrian found that he was well-suited to ISSP work. He was interested in topics like law, criminal psychology, and investigation procedures and even spent time outside of classes reading about them. Instructors were surprised by Adrian’s advanced weapons proficiency which they usually only saw from Titan veterans. Adrian explained that Michael had given him lessons from a young age, laying their curiosity to rest.

The one friend Adrian made at the academy was his partner, Detective Evelyn Bellamy, though ‘friend’ is a bit generous. Like many of their classmates, Evelyn quickly became tired of hearing their instructors sing Adrian’s praises. She was just relieved that he was aiming for the narcotics department so that their paths would never cross again. Unfortunately for her, their Captain had other ideas. Assigning them both to homicide, they were forced to find common ground. Let’s just say their partnership is a constant work in progress.

What animal best represents/symbolizes Adrian?

The animal that best represents Adrian is the coyote. Coyotes represent survival, adaptability, and tenacity, all traits that Adrian has honed from a young age. Being able to think on his feet has kept him alive for this long, but it has also caused him a fair deal of pain and suffering. With experience, especially in his role as a detective, Adrian has learned to wield this double-edged sword.

Coyotes have their destructive attributes as well, such as being stubborn, impulsive, and vengeful. Beneath his officer of the law façade, these attributes are at the core of everything Adrian does. While he truly believes he has let go of his past by finding his true calling, it’s his past that drives him to seek justice and eliminate targets. Adrian can’t confront this paradox because, deep down, he knows that it would destroy the very foundation of his identity.

Due to their howling during times of transition, such as dusk and dawn, coyotes are often associated with the concept of death and rebirth. With every death of every person he considered family, Adrian has emerged on the other side as someone completely new. It’s hard to say if it’s for better or worse.

How much does Adrian care for his appearance?

Adrian is all about practicality. One of the things he appreciates about being a detective is that he doesn’t have to think about what to wear. Because of that, he owns ten sets of the same white button-up, black tie, and black slacks. Whenever he gets an injury, usually from his extracurriculars, he patches himself up. He goes into the office the next day like nothing’s happened, causing many of his coworkers to worry and insist he visit a hospital.

Prior to working as a detective, Adrian wore whatever was comfortable. This mostly consisted of t-shirts, sweats, joggers, and baseball caps - all things he still wears when he’s off the clock. Michael was the first person to make Adrian more aware of how he presented himself. His mentor stressed how appearance was an indicator of professionalism and, if he wanted to be taken seriously as a detective, something he needed to follow through on consistently.

After Michael’s passing, Evelyn took on the role of pushing Adrian to expand his wardrobe. On their undercover cases and off-duty meetings, she always has a lot to say about his casual wear. Through her incessant pestering, Adrian has slowly started adding pieces to his collection just so he could make their conversations a little more bearable.

What quote best encapsulates Adrian?

“Show me a hero and I’ll write you a tragedy.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

While there are countless ways to interpret this quote, two of them are the most relevant to Adrian. The first has to do with the past. Behind every hero, there is usually a tragic event that shapes the rest of their life. For Adrian, that was losing his family. Their murders are the catalyst for him becoming a detective.

The second is more of a warning for the future. Making sacrifices is an unavoidable fact of being a hero. Adrian’s merciless pursuit of justice comes at the cost of everything else in his life. While he believes he has a righteous goal, being willing to go to any lengths to achieve it – violent or otherwise - pushes him further and further away from heroism. The road to hell is paved with good intentions and sometimes you don’t know you’re on that road until it’s far too late.

A note from the author: All questions were shared on the @bebopcrew server.

#twin-skelletons

[bebopcrew]

" Remind me why we're on earth again? "

Kinda a hot day to visit planet earth in the desert, don't cha think? Bad day, bad time maybe.

#reddragon-cowboy #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

A little something surrounding the relationship between Spike & Niah. I thought I'd share some more insight into Niah's peace-loving nature in comparison to Spike's tendencies to resort to violence when the situation calls for it. Yet, sometimes, it's all about the act of protecting ones who are dear to you, even if their choice of going about things might go against your beliefs in some way.

Niah tries to be a good girl.

Especially when she woke up in the future on Mars, she desired nothing but a clean slate as she was forced to begin a new life off earth. Niah was accustomed to trying to be an upstanding citizen throughout her life, presenting a ‘good’ image for her parents and other authoritative figures she’d come across. Unironically, her parents led her into a somewhat sheltered childhood, which eventually became an issue as she grew to develop her own independence. Even still, she wasn’t a person who started nor looked for trouble and did her best to obey all laws set in place (the ones that mattered anyway), even for a corrupt climate such as Mars where the superior authorities just barely exercised their power for the good of the people as they, instead, inflated their own self-interests at the expense of others.

Funnily enough, this exceedingly good, lawful image would come into question when she met Spike Spiegel, a bounty hunter who fell into her life on the pavement one silent night. Being placed in an interesting arrangement with an eccentric man whose past was shrouded in mystery, she had plenty of time to observe his…questionable activities as a licensed bounty hunter. With his code of conduct and moral compass revealing to be a tint darker against her own light, Niah continuously finds herself contrasting against his own views that seems drenched with apathy and violent ferocity, attributes the young woman noticed he keeps subdued underneath a mask of coolness.

Yet, along the way, she sometime wonders how Spike managed to sink his roots beneath her skin, slither through her veins and straight into where her hearts quicken its beat whenever he inches a tad closer. Shoulder to shoulder. His rugged fingers uncharacteristically soft when hands meet hers.

How his right eye squints as he aims that deadly Jericho with her in view, and shoots a bullet inscribed with his name on it. Niah isn't fond of guns due to the type of harm they do. But she realizes the weapon that rests at his hip is used honorably, used to protect her. Save her. Spike can pull the trigger when she lacks the heart too.

He’ll do the dirty work to protect her. Take the fall for her. At least for the sake of her good image.

@bebopcrew; Relationship Week. 02/20

🌹✨Spike Spiegel & Niah Foxx ✨🌹

#reddragon-cowboy #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@febuwhump prompt: truth serum

entry for Other Relationship/Free Day (spikexjulia) for @bebopcrew

***

"Just like that... sing for me..."

The request tore at her heart yet still provoked a faint smile to tug at her lips.

Pain medication had always worked like a truth serum on Spike. It was something Julia was at times grateful for but usually resented though she'd never admit that to anyone else.

Knowing the impact you had on another person was a heady prospect. It made her spirit soar, wild and free and delighted, but it also dragged her conscious thoughts down down down to a place of dark fears and the agony of knowing that there could be nothing between them no matter how they might dream of it.

This was not the first time Spike had shown up at her door, bloodied and bruised and battered.

Sometimes she wondered if he purposefully let himself get hurt just to wind up in her care.

It was such a ridiculous risk to take. The syndicate had dozens of doctors on the take - an entire team of scientists that Spike himself had horrible familiarity with, in fact. He didn't need to put both of them in the spotlight by collapsing into her arms as often as he did.

Then again... it was a fairly inconspicuous way to ensure he got to spend hours if not days in just her presence. Convalescing under her watchful eye and tender care... leading her further and further astray from the untouchable femme fatale she had always strove to be.

Her role in the syndicate was not to change bandages or administer medicines to ailing agents of destruction.

Spike knew her job just like she knew his. For the longest time it hadn't bothered him - or at least he hadn't let anyone know if it did. For the longest time he had stayed at an appropriate distance and had gazed at her with respectful eyes and had been the person Vicious trusted above all others.

Certainly above Julia herself. Vicious knew her job too, of course. Knew how well she could perform and how easily she could convince others of her affection and her loyalty.

She had been drawn to the mystery of the man. Impressed by his self-control and intrigued by the past he refused to reveal. His quest for power had aligned quite well with her own desire to ascend the ranks of the Red Dragons.

Never had she thought for a moment that she might be sidetracked from their mutual goal. Never had she thought she might find herself bogged down in feelings and trapped in a situation that had no easy way out and no happy ending.

Loving Spike would be a mistake. It was a path full of peril and pain.

And yet... the adoration in his eyes - both of them, the real and the fake...

The caress of his voice when it was just the two of them, his tone alone implying such impure thoughts and intentions...

Even the arrogance of the man, assuming they could be something behind closed doors, making her believe that there might be more to life than ruling a criminal organization.

She was undeniably smitten. Perhaps already doomed by the quickening of her heartbeat and the heat pooling in her belly at the notion of following this dangerous urge... of diving into something unknown and unpredictable and unsustainable with this cocky man.

There would be time for worries. There would be endless hours of anxiety, no doubt. Regrets to reap in the future.

For now she let herself give in to his charm. For now she would let herself have a moment of peace in his company. For now, for him, she would sing like the caged bird she truly was.

#aldreantreuperi #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

honeysuckle kisses | spike spiegel x oc [ poc ]

Genre: Pure Fluff. Romance. Warnings: Partial nudity. Highly Suggestive ?

Notes: I wanted to write Domestic Spike, and then my hand slipped, and it got longer than I expected...um yea. A oneshot that falls in line with the story of my fanfic: Concrete Roses. My oc, Niah, is a person of color. This scene happens three years after the events of RFB. It's just a lot of kissing and teasing and slight dom Spike. Again, hope you enjoy poetic imagery !

a few small breaths hitch in the back of her throat, full lips parted slightly in quiet anticipation as she observes with brown eyes that rests low and slowly blink, long lashes fluttering gently as a drowsy sigh escape, muscles relaxed where she comfortably lays upon the bed. The red curtains ruffle as the wind slips through the crack of the window, invading this moment as it spreads airy outdoor aromas into the interiors space of the bedroom, smells like sunlight that breathes life into one's dead eyes. It travels on the breeze where honeysuckle tastes sweet and reigns supreme, fueling humble desires which smolders between entanglements of lovers who bask in the hearts of one another.

Then a slip of his finger and her body shivers, skin tingling with warmth where his lips softly rove over sun-kissed skin, applying kisses ( one here or there ) lightly upon her belly that felt soft to mere touch as his eyelids fall shut. The length of his body lays partially on top of her, his ribs resting in between her thighs while he playfully nuzzles his face into her stomach. And it quivers when he breathes a sigh against her belly, which she rewards him with light giggles while he sucks kisses close to her navel, knowing very well this spot was easily susceptible to being tickled. He discovers how he loves submerging himself in these acts of affection, so simple and easy, he thinks, drowning all five of his senses into her luscious warmth she bathes him in at the core of her bud.

Spike can't seem to remember why he delayed this for so long. On several occasions, as months ran through different seasons of years that passed, he'd conjure the rationalization that a Bounty Hunter of his caliber couldn't accept this life he considered to be a blessing, couldn't partake in this type of life that held the potential to tame bloodthirsty urges, denying himself luxuriation of this indulgence due to past sins that smeared black within the patterned ridges of his fingerprints. And yet, for a man riddled in bloodguilt, who once upon a time occasionally dipped his hands in a bowl of bloodshed under a higher authority's command, his hands move languidly with such gentle haste, fingertips gliding across smooth skin left bare to his caress as they drum along both sides of her waist.

The room remained quiet for the most part since their awakening to this calm morning, except for audible expressions of hushed sighs mixed with whispered utterances, and again he murmurs something she still could barely hear, between movements of his lips where he whispers poetic sayings that tickles near her womb. If he was to look up at her for a split second, he'd see how she tries to hold back the smile that hovers over her mouth in a futile attempt to conceal more giggles that threatens to break free, which results in quiet laughter that rumbles in her chest.

A hum creeps up his throat when he feels her fingers finding their way into his hair, entangles them within his curly strands that coils and lovingly twist over her hand. She holds her breath as his name teases on her tongue. And she knows very well the nature of his name implied something sharp -- something that can swiftly pierce through layers of flesh no matter the depth, deep enough to reach and stab the core of a fragile heart. That is. . . if he wasn't given lessons on understanding and extending mercy for ones viewed by the world as weak, lesser and unseen by societies standards. Teachings on tenderness inspires love to blossom from the seed she planted. For whom would have ever known he was ever capable of it. A snake. A wolf. A dragon. He was three all in one. A grotesque beast.

❝ Spike ? ❞ she uttered lightly.

❝ Mmmm. . . yeeeaah ? ❞ His voice breathes huskily into her skin, full and heavy that drenched with remnants of sleep. She could hear the fatigue that saturates his words. Always have. It was obvious how tiredness weighed him down in most aspects of his life in how he carried himself--all in the way he talked, walked, and even smoked a cig or handled a pole when he fished. But with her, and for her, he manages to gain just a little energy, a little more than what he usually would offer to anyone else .

She seals her mouth closed, not quick to respond, however, only stare from beneath long lashes that rests ever lower as a similar weariness hangs over her eyelids. Spike lifts his head to look at her, clearly waiting for some sort of response in which his name that fell out her maw beckon his attentions, beckons his gaze which ( also ) take their sweet time roving over the lush hills of her breasts that were adorned modestly in the comfort of a black lace bra - an exquisite sight to behold that his fingers ache to unwrap. But in regard to Niah, there's still nothing, not even a peep from those gorgeous lips that only further tempts him once he locks in on them, and he realizes a sudden thirst for the feel of them against his own.

❝ You call my name and don't have anything to say, huh ? ❞ He couldn't help the chuckle that deeply erupts within his chest, mainly because she then ( almost shyly ) touches the back of her hand to her mouth, a nonverbal act to keep her mouth sealed as if there was a secret she couldn't tell. Oh, so coy with a sweetness he's addicted to. Niah didn't have to do much of anything to tug his attention away from most things - say his name for no reason other than to hear his voice, and he's hooked on the string that reels him in to attend to her cares. Especially now that his forearms prop on the mattress that settles on either side of her as he starts to inch forward, dragging his bare torso as he crawls up over her smaller frame.

She trembles out a small whimper as his body presses down onto her, the linen wrinkling underneath her. She feels herself sink into the mattress, lets loose a low moan while his hips burrow between the warm space of her thighs as he comfortably rests a large portion of his weight on top of her. Niah was short in comparison to his taller stature, but Spike knew she could handle it, or at the very least tolerate most of what he lays on her. Besides, there was a type of pleasure he obtained in it, derived in the way her body squirms beneath him as she adjusts to his new position, struggles against his strength as if she were prey caught in the jaws of a predator. Only in this instance, the little dove had no such desire to fly away or be saved.

An elbow props him up as his face hovers above her, and thick strands of curly hair tickle her forehead lightly where his messy bangs droop languid, lax, and intimate. She swallows thickly, lips parting as warmth rushes to her cheeks that spreads down her neck. He smirks, half-lid mismatched eyes locked on hers, close enough she could see his pupils were dilated. ❝ I kinda like the way you say my name anyhow - can't never get enough of it. Y'know what I mean ? ❞ He decides to bring his other hand closer, positions his thumb sideways so he may brush it over the hill of her cheek, down till it stops at her jaw and repeats . ❝ --nothing else has to be said other than that. ❞ within his eyes brews a cup of desire, and her heart palpitates with a twisted ache, knew what his words implied: a teeny tiny dictation he speaks gentle disguised as a suggestion, subtle sayings full of lustful connotations.

Quickly his gaze then flickers to her mouth, pupils full blown wide as they trace the voluptuous shape of her lips. They looked so soft and kissable. Nicely round and full that almost makes him salivate at the thought of her dulcet flavor, lips he's itching to roughly bruise with his teeth in a hot searing kiss, leave his mark as one of her reminders that he greedily owns her. Yet, he clears his throat, absolute willpower holds back the beast by an iron collar clamped around his neck. Patience tells him such feverish urgency could wait for just a few minutes longer. There was no rush. The birds were still singing, and the morning was still young as the world slowly arises awake to a new day. He will drink the delicious fill of her cup quite soon.

And it absolutely amazes him how he developed self-discipline to begin with. Spike don't recall how he did it, how he survived all those months with these feelings that slowly nibbled away at the stone defenses that encircled his heart, left him weak and vulnerable to her dreamy enchantment she casted in every passing second he spent in her presence . Her every touch ( no matter how small ), every look that may linger a second longer, stimulating something buried deep within his psyche to flower from the land of the dead. He couldn't believe how it beat all odds. How a rose could rise from a crack in solid concrete.

Niah watches in silence beneath his stare, still no utterance escapes her as his face drew an inch closer, notices the way desire resembles hunger that simmers in the amber liquid of his eyes that grew dark, obvious his mind had wandered into a different territory, somewhere not as clean nor wholesome as white purity. That was good for her. And again, she doesn't have to do much at all. A little effort : she only pulls her bottom lip in for a quick nip, a single canine pinches the supple flesh there before her tongue swipes over with a fresh sheen of saliva. His adams apple bobs accordingly, a noise that befits more of a deep moan rumbles his throat as he blinked, licking his lips. His eyes flit back to hers immediately where he sees an ounce of mischief swirling within, hinders on innocent in her doe brown eyes that were laid low and sleepily alluring, never fails to make him melt. And her finger lifts that merely brushes under the tip his chin, like a soft petals caress.

a subtle tease. ohhh, she could be just as mean of a tease as he when she wanted to be. Man, he was so weak, oh how far he has fallen from the image of a stoic man who at one time preferred a cigarette's toxic kiss to his lips, and smoke where warm vapors brush venomous whispers over cold cheeks.

He gulps thick, throat feeling dry and in need of her water she supplies. ❝ You mind if I kiss you ? ❞ Even for Spike when he actually heard the words tumble out his mouth, he realized it was stupidest question he could've ever ask her. Of course, he can steal a kiss from her whenever he so pleased. Any time. Any day, under the sun and moon of earth he knows she adores so much. But he at least earns a small laugh out of her in a burst of mirth, which is all that matters in the world he built with her.

She finally shakes her head in response. No. And she smiles just a bit. It drives him wild how she chooses to tease him. So demure and ever tempting, like the little prey she is, typically common in slow mornings such as this one that bathes the room in a hazy golden glow. And he's grateful he's actually alive to witness such beauty that gave birth to the image of her.

This is where patience comes to its end.

His head dips low, tilting it to the side, and lightly does his lips skims over the surface of hers. The sensation surprised her for a second that her heart rate spiked, not expecting him to start at such a slow, steady pace, but it made her heart flutter all the same, the way his lips ( teasingly ) ghosts over the shape of her own that imitates the touch of a feather. His nose bumps against hers softly, peers down at her visage with those lazy, half-lid eyes that bore into hers, taking a dip into her earthy brown hues. The tip of his tongue licks her bottom lip as he pulls slightly away, and with his free hand he touches his palm to her cheek, tenderly strokes the length of her eyebrow with his thumb.

Spike could be sweet if he feels someone merits his fond regards, but all throughout these gesticulations he bestows upon her only leaves her senses a tad overwhelmed, prompts her mouth to part where Niah releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding. His capability and utter willingness to demonstrate this side of himself always left her mind in a daze and gripped a tight hold on her heart. This was the flip of a coin where he exudes a rare, raw fondness that he reveals only for her to experience in these special moments alone.

❝ Mind if I kiss you again ? ❞ His lips quirk up in a half-smirk with a peek of his teeth, but there in his eyes she sees a star faintly glimmer in their cosmic depths.

A small utterance in a low breath. ❝ Was that a real kiss ? ❞

Moments like these, he makes her feels special. Moments like these, he wonders why she chose him. And yet, he can't worry about that, for he takes the love she offers as it is.

❝ Yea, but this one is even better . ❞

red curtains flutter as the wind blows. It fills her lungs as she sucks in a sharp breath right before his lips are pressed against hers, and her eyes are fluttering close, hands moving as one arm wrap across his shoulder-blades, the other where small fingers weave in the tangles of his hair as her hand lovingly holds the back of his head. It ignites a spark of tingles to swarm the area her fingertips graze his scalp, and he exhales through his nostrils with a hum of pleasure as a wave of goosebumps pour down his back like water at the feeling of her hand in his hair. Somewhat breathless, she fails to suppress a groan as he applies more of his weight atop her body, breasts squish against his broad chest that expands with every intake of breath, finds difficulty in moving as she slightly squirms underneath. Spike, nonetheless, relishes in her feeble attempts, something gratifying in the notion of keeping her still in place beneath him right where he wants her, under his control that bespoke a dominate nature.

Her head sinks into the plush crevice of the pillow as he pushes his face onto hers. The temperature of his body starts to rise at a quick pace. Her hand drifts from his head to allow her finger to lightly trace a circle between his shoulder blades, the other, ever so gingerly slides the tip of her middle finger down the length of his spine ever so slowly. And it couldn't be contained nor suppressed in the way his eyes are forced shut as his body shudders at her touch, prying his mouth away to let loose a deep moan as he bathes her cheeks with the warmth of his breath. Oh, such a sexy noise she drew out of him. Niah was keenly aware of how his body reacts to certain stimuli in different zones where pleasure was easily achieved- his sensitivity to sensual touches, incredibly so vulnerable to her sultry caress.

Spike takes a moment to clear his throat, nerves jumbled as the shock of pleasure steadily dissipates with a small shake of his head, but not another second passes before he's greedily claiming her lips once more with a grunt, sharp eyebrows furrowed and pressed against her forehead. The softness of her lips never once loses form as they continue to mold and delectably squish against his own in their shared kiss. His mouth had accumulated with enough saliva that it slicks in-between as his lip's glides over her supple flesh that bends with ease to his sway, feels moist and warm as he feels her tongue offer gentle swipes over his bottom lip. Honestly, it was all too much for the bounty hunter, his biceps bulging as his hands grip the pillow on either side of her head. And a moment arrives where she parts to catch her breath, but it's stolen as he dips his tongue deep into the cavern of her mouth, angling his head to prod further as the wet muscle hungrily slither within to explore the sweetness of her flavor. The mere thickness of his tongue that protrudes into her mouth elicits a whine which delicately crawls up her throat, a noise that sounded so pretty, so small, fragile as a porcelain vase, an absolute exquisite mewl that tastes like red wine in which he swallows in haste.

Covetousness slither like a snake that wrap about his psyche where the beast takes hold and drinks his fill from her cup, indulging in the special concoction of her taste where a potent sweetness ripples with water as rose petals floats within the basin. He moans deeply into her mouth, flicking and swirling his tongue around her smaller one, his salvia shared generously where a little dribble on the side of her mouth. Spike's hand comes to rest on her hip, gently slide down her thigh before shifting her leg up and over his pelvis. He cracks a single eye open to observe her face, discovers her eyes were lulled closed, and he could've sworn he was dreaming when he saw stars dust off her lashes, as she was too immersed in the moment, her heart pounding heavy with fervor against her chest as their tongues dance in motion through their slow, sultry kiss, and her hands once more become lost in the thick forest of his hair.

Their souls entwined during the kiss that flowered with honeysuckle, blossoming summer yellow along vines that interwove through the wounds of one heart bleeding red, one she nurtured, bringing ultimate relief to his pain where a flame once flared bright crimson, extinguished with the aid of water that trickled from her gentle, loving hand. The wild beast drinks from her cup from the bucket he pulled from her water-well, once more being made alive in the promise that bloomed out of hope when he believed he was dead.

They partake in a loveful symphony as sighs breathe hushed and insatiable moans stir their bellies with the crackling of a fire. The mattress creaks under their combined weight, dust particles drifting within misty beams of sunlight that caress their figures that became entrapped within white sheets, limbs entangled while riveted in passion that brews coals of ice that melt against their heat. Niah's mouth separates from him and his tongue withdraws, his lips feeling a brush of coolness when she peels the warmth of hers away to draw in a lungful of air in a breathy gasp, her profile meeting the pillow with a turn of her head. He burrows his nose into her warm skin, the spot where her neck and shoulder meet, her scent reminiscent of faint rainfall and strawberry oil that buzzes his senses, balmily drifts up his nostrils as he takes a long inhale. Struggling to level her breath, her eyes shut with a small shiver, feeling something wet there, realizing his tongue was slowly running up the curve of her neck for another quick taste.

Spike could never quite get enough. ❝ You're sweet, y'know that ? ❞

#reddragon-cowboy #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@bebopcrew; relationship week

day six ★ spike & electra

#mx-sinisters #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@bebopcrew; Relationship Week. 02/20.

🌹✨Spike Spiegel x Niah Foxx 🌹✨

#reddragon-cowboy #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Cowboy Bebop (Anime) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Jet Black/Faye Valentine Additional Tags: Playlist Summary:

A bittersweet post-canon Jet/Faye playlist I made for @bebopcrew‘s Relationship Week. Enjoy! 🖤

#bellpeppersand-beef #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@bebopcrew; relationship week

day five ★ jet & faye

#mx-sinisters #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@febuwhump prompt: "Please don't."

also written for Jet/Faye Day of Relationship Week @bebopcrew

***

Faye crossed her arms and turned from the starry view spread before the windows of the bridge of the Bebop. She was antsy as all hell. It had been endless days of monotonous routine and while it was good to finally have the ship space worthy again and to see different stars than what Mars's nighttime skyline had to offer... it wasn't enough.

She had to get the fuck out of here. Sitting stagnant was simply not her style no matter how well it seemed to suit her companions.

"I'm going." She announced, immediately making good on her words by putting one foot in front of the other. Adding a sway to her stride was not usually something that paid off in front of Jet but she couldn't help swinging her hips just a touch to try and tease him.

"Please don't."

The whisper had been so quiet that Faye momentarily doubted she'd heard anything at all. Glancing out of the corner of her eye towards where Jet sat at the navigation panel of the ship convinced her otherwise. He was resolutely staring down at the screen and buttons, hands lying atop the controls yet still - they were docked now, after all, no need to guide the ship. Furthermore, there was a touch of color to his usually pale features.

Embarrassment? Shame at having spoken? Irritation with himself over the escape of delicate emotional fragility?

She wondered what it had cost him to speak up. Wondered if regret was already eating him alive from the inside out. His jaw was clenched tight as if to keep from spewing any more weakness out at her, though the damage had already been done.

Well... she could pretend that she hadn't heard his plea. Although the fact that she'd stopped traipsing towards the ladder would be difficult to pass off as anything other than a reaction of shock to his words.

Her mind was still reeling, in fact. Jet was not the type of person to beg for company. He kept a stern face on almost all the time - though she had seen him let down his guard around Spike more than once, whether the pair were laughing together uproariously or whether it was an expression of desperate concern as Jet watched over Spike's uneasy rest. The point was, Jet tended to shrug his own emotional needs off. He liked to pretend he was fine with solitude and that he didn't truly want or need any of them around. He talked a big talk and walked a big walk but Faye could see through the act.

She'd trained herself for years to read past the lines... to see below surface level at what other people tried to hide. It was a skill imperative to survival when she was meandering around the cosmos on her own and had to trust her own instincts to keep her safe from the varying degrees of evil out there.

This obviously unintentional beseeching revealed significant cracks in his façade. Not entirely surprising given the recent upheaval they'd undergone with Ed and Ein departing (fuck, the guilt of being responsible for that was plaguing her mind almost constantly and was certainly a big part of why she'd had a stomach-ache for days now) and her own flakiness (though to be fair to herself the boys had launched from Earth without even trying to contact her before taking off) and most significantly Spike's whole deal.

Inhaling deeply, Faye slowly turned to face Jet fully. He might be too nervous to meet her eyes but she'd be damned if she didn't address this soft-spoken entreaty with her characteristic boldness.

"I know I haven't given you much cause to believe me..." she began and nearly smiled when he snorted. "But, well, like I told that lunkhead... this is the only place I can come back to. So, don't think me leaving now means you're getting rid of me."

At that, Jet finally raised his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were a turbulent shade of gray that bordered on blue. It was a stormy sea that she could get lost in without any desire of rescue. So different from the murkiness of Spike's mismatched brown eyes... and such a contrast from the vibrancy of her own lovely green eyes. There was a steeliness to Jet's eyes that reminded her of the stability of the ship itself. And right now she could see a mixture of gratitude and relief in those beautiful eyes and in the slacking of his jaw as his mouth eased into a hint of a smile.

"You, uh..."

She interrupted him before he could sort out where that query was going. It wasn't taking pity on him, it was enabling her own escape from the awkwardness of this exchange.

"We're about out of bandages and if he keeps oozing through the way he has been... well, I'm not about to sacrifice my fucking laundry to wrap his wounds. Besides, you said we need to pick up another batch of blood bags while we're here. I've been keeping an eye on that zombie for too long now - I need to stretch my legs. You had your chance already when you were fixing the ship up so we could leave Mars. Well, now it's your turn to make sure he keeps breathing."

Jet licked his lips - did he know how enticing he was being? - and gave her a nod. She rolled her eyes but nodded right back before moving towards the ladder once more.

"Wanna... uh, grab some smokes while you're out?" He called to her.

"Nah. Tired of Spike's brand and anyway why have that temptation around to fuck with him. We deserve something a little nicer anyway. Cohiba Behike sounds like the winner to me but we'll see what's available." She turned enough to give him a wink, relishing the look of astonishment that passed over his face at her casual mention of the expensive cigars.

"We don't have the cash for-" Her rich chuckle cut off his protest.

"I have my ways. 'Ta!" Impulsively, she spun back to blow him a kiss before dropping down the ladder with her heels along the railings to bypass the actual steps.

#aldreantreuperi #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@bebopcrew; relationship week

day four ★ julia & faye

#mx-sinisters #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@febuwhump prompt: too weak to move

also Julia/Faye day of Relationship Week @bebopcrew

***

"Whoa whoa whoa! Take it easy!" The voice admonishing her for stirring was vaguely familiar. The advice was easy to follow because she realized she literally could not rise.

There was an awful ache in her chest and all her extremities felt chilled to the bone. Her vision was watery when she blinked her eyes open, desperate to see where she was and what was happening.

The last thing she remembered was agony ripping through her torso...

Pitching forward face first, helpless to lessen the impact...

Spike's gaze, finally showing a glimpse of emotion - a hint of the affection he'd once held for her. His expression was grim.

And then... Nothing.

And now...

An angel looming over her. Violet tresses hanging down around a pale face with worried emerald green eyes peering down at her. Relief eased the crinkle that had marred her brow and enabled Faye to offer her a tender smile.

"You had us pretty worried." Faye went on. Her hands fluttered against Julia's shoulders as if she couldn't keep from touching her gently just to ensure she was real. "Spike thought you bit the dust for sure. Still, he brought you to Doc... Well, Doc said he asked for your body to be cared for. Didn't wanna leave you for those syndicate dogs to... Well, who knows. Anyway, Doc realized you were still alive if only just... He managed to get the bullet out and patched up your lung and then called Jet to come scoop you. Fraidy cat didn't wanna get caught keeping you around if you were gonna live."

Julia frowned. Doc had saved her? He answered only to the Van and it had been the Van who ordered her death. They had been lashing out in the face of Vicious's betrayal. But Vicious had slain the Elders... Annie's last words had given them that knowledge before Spike had gone off on his vendetta. Annie's death had to be avenged, after all.

Did Doc fear a reprisal from Vicious for saving her?

To be fair, Julia was no longer sure what to expect from Vicious.

"Spike's gone off to slay the dragons now like some kinda crusading knight. Jet took off as soon as he got you back here. I knew he'd never be able to let Spike face that kinda danger alone. He's always griping about Spike being reckless, vowing he's not gonna back him up... Sheesh, the amount of bullshit outta those boys... He protests so damn much it's obvious it's all a front but I let them get away with it because they're just too fragile, you know?" Faye flashed her a conspiratorial smile. "You've been in the boys club long enough, I'm sure you're familiar with the masks they wear."

It hurt too much to move but Julia managed a ghost of a smirk. Exhaustion was washing over her heavily. Black spots were beginning to dance in her vision. It seemed like Faye could tell for the other woman gave Julia's shoulders a soft squeeze as she spoke again.

"It's okay. You can rest again - for the best if you do. It's gonna be a while before you're back on your feet. Don't worry though, I'll keep watch. I've had to tend to Spike plenty so I'm pretty good at this kinda thing these days. You're safe. I've got you."

It felt...strange to be the person laid out and hurting. So many years in the Syndicate and Julia had managed to evade injury for all of them (broken hearts didn't count). It was not an experience she ever wanted to personally go through but... Well, you can't control everything in life. There was very little you could control, in fact.

As painful as it was to be nearly on her death bed... It was a comfort to have Faye Valentine looking out for her. The other woman was incredibly competent, the type of badass that Julia could genuinely use as a partner. Darkness began to pull her under but the memory of her encounter with Faye played out in her subconscious again and again...

Leaping to her defense with no idea of the situation at all... Throwing her an invitation to team up without having any clue who she was or what threats were making her life hell...

Her reunion with Spike had left her feeling hollow and cold. It wasn't entirely unexpected but it was still a shame. Their bridge had surely been burned. Despite that, she'd been willing to die at his side. Eager to put an end to the running, to finally close that bloody chapter of her life in whatever way it had to be done.

Surviving was a surprise. After all she'd said and done and undergone...

Well. Perhaps getting to know Faye better would be her reward...

#aldreantreuperi #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

@febuwhump prompt: hostage situation

also Spike/Jet day of Relationship Week @bebopcrew

***

He wasn't sure why he cared.

Even as he crept around the warehouse, sizing up the situation, he wasn't sure why he was there at all.

Taking down the lookouts, he wondered at why he was bothering with all this work.

Sneaking into the sprawling storage area of the building, pallets loaded with plastic wrapped boxes of varying sizes, he casually incapacitated each and every thug he encountered without permitting a single one to make any sort of outcry.

It was uncharacteristically restrained of him and again he pondered at what that could mean.

Rushing in with guns blazing was more his style but that could have easily led to the gang simply killing their hostage. But truly what did that matter to him? Why was he going through all this extra effort to be inconspicuous? Why was he risking himself in the first place?

His conscience was not something he typically listened to and yet it had not let him stay aboard the refurbished fishing trawler. It had whispered of debts and of good deeds, it had egged him on from the moment the gang had reached out thinking their catch had someone worth exploiting to make demands of.

Spike wasn't a man of much money. From the little he had learned so far of Jet Black...neither was he. Nor did Jet seem to have many people in his life. As far as hostages go, their claim on Jet was all but useless. In fact it was a bit worse than useless... If only because it was going to be their last mistake.

He considered the chances that some or all of these criminals might have a price on their head. It would be worth looking into once he was done here.

Was it an obligation that he felt? Something owed to the scarred man who had his back in that tavern brawl on TJ? Could it be shrugged off as needing the other man around to help pilot the ship?

Technically it was Jet's vessel, after all, though if Jet wasn't around who could say it wasn't Spike's? He could have taken advantage of this unfortunate event and become sole owner of the ship currently docked at the space station nearest the asteroid colony.

But there was something compelling about Jet Black. Something honorable and admirable that Spike found peculiarly attractive. The character of the other man was something that Spike desired to emulate. That dogged pursuit of justice. That sturdy moral fiber. It was all so far removed from everything Spike had seen and revered while growing up.

Jet was a breath of fresh air. An outlier in a sea of selfish souls.

It would be a crime for someone like him to be a casualty of such a pathetic crew of assholes.

And it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes, Spike mused as he reached the hallway leading to the office where the last of the gang members must be holed up with Jet.

There were worse reasons to save a life.

#aldreantreuperi #relationship week

[bebopcrew]

02/17

Spike/Jet Relationship Day for @bebopcrew

I think this panel from Spilt Milk doujinshi has one of the best Spike/Jet dynamics. It's like child's doodles for parents - awkward but very dear.

#recommendation #relationship week