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venushasvixens · 1 year

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Chapter 22. Truth and Trust - Life is but a Dream (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

Word Count: 3k

Warning: angst

[A/N] so this chapter wasn’t posted onto Tumblr until now (my bad). Enjoy!

Spike’s side of the bed was empty and cold.

You had recovered pretty well the last couple of weeks, now getting up and walking around on your own. It still ached, but you had managed. Just took some work and determination. Even so, you couldn’t remember one thing during your rest. There was no memory of how you got here. You came back into consciousness in the last few weeks, and it made you wonder.

What did you do during that time besides sleep?

People do crazy stuff when they’re in pain. The situation that pertained you to this thought was Spike. And Jet.

Every morning, you felt a soft kiss on your forehead and the sound of the door closing. Then in the middle of the night, the sound of a door closing, a kiss and the weight of Spike laying beside you. During the day, there was little talk. A communication of tracking bounties and where his location was. But that was it.

Jet was a tad different. He checked on you, asked how you were feeling. But when you asked about your beloved, he would shut the conversation down quickly.

“Out, as usual. Speaking of which, let me do a quick check in with him.” He would reply with a quick smile and a brisk walk out of the living area.

At first, you didn’t mind. In your state, more work had to be put in to keep the Bebop running and the crew alive. But as the days repeated, and the routine continued, you couldn’t help but feel…suspicious.

Of yourself, most of all, but of what you said or did. Spike didn’t take insults to heart that bad, instead having it bounce back with a fist or a witty comeback. Even if you did, you were still going to feel just as bad. If he was angry with you, you would want to know.

“That’s just the way he is, as long as I can remember.” Faye shrugged as you confided in her. “We are busy after all.”

“Yeah. But I can’t help but feel like I did something bad, you know?” You sat in the chair opposite her, watching as she filed her nails meticulously.

“You did get into a fight, that's bad. But not worthy of the silent treatment.” Faye assured you. “I’m sure its all fine and dandy. You’re probably just overthinking the whole thing.”

The footsteps from the kitchen alerted you as you saw Jet ascending the small steps with a mug and donut in hand. “You girls okay this morning?”

“Doing just fine.” Faye mumbled.

“I guess you can say so.” You replied, rubbing your head.

“Everything okay?” Jet questioned. “If you’re hungry, I can grab you a donut, don’t even have to get up-“

“Oh no, I’m okay.” You reluctantly said. “Just a little worried about Spike, that's all. Haven’t seen him at all today. Or much any day for a while.”

“Ah, okay.” Jet nodded slowly, slowly inching away from the living room and up the steps to the hull. “Well! He’s probably just fine. Matter of fact, I’ll call him up as soon as I’m up there, I’d have a moment or two. Scout’s honor, kid.”

You narrowed your eyes. Avoiding the conversation was the last nail in the coffin. “Sounds amazing. Thanks.”

You looked back at Faye, with a questioning glint in your eyes. She shared the same expression, pouting her lips as she delved into the same skeptical energy as you.

The rotating hull was still hard on your legs, giving no mercy. Wincing as you climb from the hull through the entrance to the bridge, your feet planted one by one on the other side. Letting the door shut behind you, you heard the shuffling of Jet’s footsteps as he investigated the noise.

“It’s just me.” You called out, clanking down one step at a time slowly. “Checking in thats all.”

You hissed as the final step put some pain in your leg. Jet turned his head to watch you. “Careful now, can’t be falling apart on me.”

“Too little, too late.” You gave a faint smile as you leaned against the console. Deep in his work, you watched as Jet clinked and snapped in whatever he was doing. Something to keep him busy, always. “How was it out there?”

He took a deep intake of breath. “I'd say the same as usual. Didn’t see any bad guys, sadly.”

“Ah.” You replied. “Give me another week and we won't have to worry about that.”

He nodded his head, still focused on the console board. “Sounds mighty fine.”

As usual, what dissipated your physical pain for the briefest of moments was the burning question at the back of your mind. “You’ve seen Spike today, right?”

“Yeah. Before sunrise.” Jet mumbled out, counting under his breath. You waited until he was finished so as to not interrupt him. In the midst of your suspicions, you still had respect.

“Did he say what he went out for?” You asked.

Jet shrugged. “Beats me.”

In the quietness of the bridge, you took a small stroll to the giant windows. Beaming in was warm light, tingling your exposed arms. A sense of calm before what you were going to ask.

“It's odd.”

“What’s that?” Jet replied nonchalantly, still focused.

“You and Spike are thick as thieves and he didn't tell you where he was going.” You stated, crossing your arms. “It’s suspicious.”

“Well, he does run off now and then. Always does when something is bothering him, or he’s feeling cooped up in this metal cage of ours.”

You nodded. Turning around, you looked down at Jet, who was just staring at the console board. No hand movements, no papers or screens open to work on. Even with his head down, you could see his gaze glaring right back at you.

“Okay.” You finally said. “I won’t keep you from your work. So sorry.”

You walked the opposite side of the console board, taking slow steps. It surely was going to be a pain trying to get out of here.

He nodded. “Be careful getting out- hey!”

The console board powered down, fading into a blank slate. Leaning yourself against the table, you watched a Jet grumbled and cursed under his breath.

“What do you know?”

Jet stood up straight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You shook your head. “I’m not happy with that answer.”

You both were at a standoff, watching each other carefully. You could see in Jet’s eyes that he was aware. Very aware of your past. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you initially told them. But now that the whole crew was possibly being tracked down at this moment, this was going to be a problem.

And yet, he still didn’t say anything.

“I lied.” You breathed. “But how was I supposed to know that I was tracked? If I knew any sooner, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You did.” His shoulders dropped. The disappointment that echoed within you stung. This was the last thing you ever wanted to do to a person that gave you shelter when you needed it most. “But syndicate children make great sharpshooters.”

“He’s disappointed in me, isn’t he? That’s why I haven’t seen him at all.” You confirmed. “Doesn’t want to look at my face.”

“Yes he is. I can’t speak for Spike, but he needs…” Jet trailed off, sighing. “I don’t know what he needs.”

Walking right by Jet, you sat in a chair, contemplating your actions. “He told me all about it, the syndicate he was a part of. All of the stuff he did, the things he saw. I did the same.”

“But you didn’t tell him flat out.” Jet replied, raising his eyebrows. “You let it sit there all this time until something happened.”

“I did.”

You completely fucked up. You deserved to be called out on your shit, your deception to those who trusted you most. You didn't have the courage to even say anything back to Jet, and it was going to feel hard to after this. How badly you wanted to disappear. Or start over fresh, tell them flat out so that you could have avoided this situation.

Jet looked at you, and then at the windows of the bridge. “Hey.”

You glanced up at him with teary eyes.

“You see that spot over there?” He pointed to the main window, a bench planted across for a view. “Over there was the first time I had learned anything from him. Of Spike’s past. Before, he never said anything, not a damn word. Then when our life was turning to shit, it just came out.”

You saw as Jet remimence over the memory, his face deep into the thought. “In that moment, (Y/n), I knew. Your past should’ve defined you, but guided you. You are who you are now. You can’t allow yourself to keep living this lie, or it’ll get you killed.”

The shot that hit you sends waves of emotional calm over yourself. It was a different perspective of what you felt just minutes before. “And I think that's what's bothering him too. To see you go through the same thing he did, it's hurting him bad.”

Ah man, another dagger in the heart.

“If I need to go, tell me.”

“I’m not going to kick you out, kid. That’s the last thing I want to do.” Crossing his arms, Jet’s face softened. “Now I knew this conversation was going to happen sooner than later, and yes it does make me upset. But I am not that kind of person to do that. Now what I want you to do is to talk to him, hear him out.”

“You’re right.” You sniffled. “Even with a hit on your head you still want me here?”

He shrugged. “Had worse on me. For all we know, they may have given up on getting back at us.”

Shaking your head, you bit down on your lip. There was no way in heaven or hell that Jo was going to give up so easily on you. When she wanted to finish a job, it was going to get done regardless. This was going to get so much worse.

“Jo doesn’t give up. Without a doubt in my mind she is going to hunt us until the day she dies.” You felt defeated again. Everything that was together not even two weeks ago was now falling apart. Dumb to think that you can have some clarity in your life for once, you thought. “I really don’t know what to do.”

“(Y/n), you know this person inside and out. You’ve looked into her mind, you've done her deeds. So follow that path and get that brain of yours working.” Jet popped on you. In a sense, this is exactly what you needed. A shove back into reality instead of giving up. Your hole of despair had to be put on hold until you were going to figure out what to do. “To find the solution, you have to look at the pattern.”

You nodded. “I needed that, thank you. But what am I looking for?”

“What you seek. What you've always been looking for.” Jet turned the console back on and refreshed the holo computer. “Use this, it's faster than what I’m using.”

Taking this new opportunity in your hands, you sat in the chair and began searching away. You opened the file that contained everything that Jet had accumulated over the time you were knocked out.

“What did you think of my shades?” You pulled up a picture of yourself.

“Think they look rather cool, real cool.” Jet flashed you a smile, reassuring you of your place on the Bebop, and a bonafide hunter in the system.

Spike set the Swordfish on cruise, debating on if he should bring himself back to the Bebop or not. His fingers hung loosely around the handlebars, and flexed them lightly. He still hadn’t made up his mind. He did forgive you, silently. And in his mind, not out loud or to your face.

Why was this so hard?

He wasn’t good at apologies or sentimental thoughts that were spoken. It was a “sorry” or “my bad”, and they just accepted it as it was. That was the most people could get out of him. But when it comes to forgiveness? It was an easy option to move on and forget it all happened. This was different.

You both weren’t that different, either. You were both songs of the same tune. Was it because he thought he knew everything about you, and now he didn’t, or that you lied until it was too late..? Christ, he didn’t know.

He sighed in frustration as he circled the airspace once again. As usual when he went missing, an occasional transmission from Jet would come every so often. Even if he was mad at Spike, he still had to make sure the angry bastard was still okay. Common courtesy, no matter what.

The last transmission was in the afternoon, a little after two o’clock. But the sky had dimmed well into evening, and there was the faintest bit of light. Nothing from Jet. Or from you.

No transmission from you.

That puts a greater stress on the situation. Did you know that he knows? If he were to return to the Bebop, what would he be coming back to, he thought. Hoping for a calm approach was out of the question had it involved Faye, so this could be different. Tense, but speaking bluntly and calmly. He just want reassurance, quiet, peaceful-

Transmission incoming. The tag read from you.

Spike’s stomach leaped. The beeps grew loud as he contemplated accepting the message. His hand hovered over, quietly debating. Finally, he pressed the button to accept.

“Yo.” It was all he could say.

You cleared your throat. “Hi.” It wasn't hard to hear the emotion you tried to hide in your voice. “Where are you?”

“Umm, I’m out. Somewhere close, though.”

The pause was great.

“Can we talk when you get back?”

“Yes.” Spike answered immediately.

“Yes?” You replied to Spike, in a way relieved that he was wanting to talk to you. It had gnawed at you for the entire day, and you were so ready to get it over with.

“Uh-huh.” He hummed, hearing the roar of his engine as it accelerated back to the ship. “See you soon.”

You cut the transmission before you could say “I love you.” Didn’t seem appropriate right now, even though you wanted to say it so bad. It hurt to not say it to Spike.

After your confession to Jet, you had been on and off crying thinking of all that had transpired. Your fears came back to one hurtful possibility, and that was separating yourself from Spike.

The tears that poured from your eyes could’ve made oceans and lakes. As best he could, Jet passed you tissues any time a sniffle or hiccup of sadness came from your direction. How long that Spike had known, and was letting it fester inside. Reminding yourself of being responsible for it, it only made you cry even more. But it was your mind that was made up that hurt the most. The many plans you had made when Jet wasn’t looking.

What made this all worse was the research you did make.

Locations, names. All were at your fingertips. Something had to be done about it. But in your busy head, there wasn’t a clear answer as to what to do.

He was going to see you soon. He was going to be here. In front of you, to talk about it. Now it was time to wait a bit more, until the judgment was to come.

As Spike closed the door to the rotating hull, Jet was waiting opposite.

“I have someone waiting on me.” Spike said as he walked off.

“Sure, but I need to tell you something before you do.” Jet replied, still planted where he was. Stopping, Spike listened.

“I had never seen a girl so in love with someone before until I talked to (Y/N) today. Never experienced it, and probably never will. There’s a lot to lose. Remember that.”

Spike couldn’t walk off fast enough. Even when he was lied to, how fast he wanted to be in your arms and melted into you. But he couldn’t. There was a truth that needed to be shared.

Grabbing the handle of the door to the bridge, he pushed it to the side and stepped in. The illumination from the console lit the bridge, with no other light source. Walking slowly, he gazed longingly at the outline of you looking out into the city. Your soft hair, the curve of your shoulders and hips. He could see you.

His heel clicked against the metal as he took another step. You turned quickly, worried eyes resting on the source of the noise. Finally, he stopped in front of you, hands in pockets.

“I..I need to explain myself.”

Spike eyes honed in on your down appearance. It wasn’t hard to notice your puffy eyes or red nose. “Okay.”

“I wasn’t honest with you. I lied about who I really was, and my life.” You began. “There shouldn’t be an excuse at all. And..and I think I did it to get away from it all, that way of living. Had I known it would’ve gotten to this point, I would have never..”

You threw your arms around, gesturing to the ship as a whole.

“Every second I spent there was a what if. What if I was going to die today, what if I lost my place with Jo. It was going to kill me if I didn’t leave.” You muttered, wincing at the memory. “Before she could do anything, I left.”

The image of your daring escape from the clutches of Red Jack’s flooded back into your mind. Early morning, with a small wallet full of credits and the clothes on your back. The breeze on your face as your feet carried you to the nearest transport station. An alias given, and finally, out of Yun and away from Mars.

While floating with many other souls in space, you remembered your tears of relief. Absolutely free. You could breathe again without question of loyalty or argument.

Just when you were out, you were pulled right back in.

“Dammit, I should’ve told you. I should’ve told you sooner.” You repeat yourself, holding your body closely. “I’m so sorry, Spike. I truly am.”

At this point, you couldn’t hold in your tears at all. How pathetic you looked, blubbering mess begging for forgiveness. You were beyond terrified of losing his love, losing him. You didn’t want the one good thing that has ever happened to you in your life to leave you.

Through dim lights, you could feel his eyes gaze into you. “S-say something, please.” You begged. Please, I can’t stand this silence.

“You’re right. You should’ve told me from the beginning.” Spike began. “But its…understandable.”

You nodded softly.

“You’re the only person I ever really told about who I was before this.” He said lowly. “Why couldn’t you just tell me?”

“A-at the time, I was living low. Or so I thought.” You mumbled. “I really thought they had forgotten all about me. Who they were looking for didn’t exist anymore. She was just a thing of the past.”

“And they still found her.”

You sat defeated in the double seat at the head of the bridge. “I didn’t try hard enough to disappear.”

Spike sat next to you, keeping a short distance. “You didn’t. But how else was I supposed to see you?”

You huffed softly. It surprised you. In a moment where you thought you were about to lose everything, how simple a sentence could wipe that feeling away.

“If I put a different spotlight on, it would be easier.” You replied back. “Could’ve revealed who I really was sooner.”

“But this is you.”

You glanced at Spike, shaking your head. “No. Its not.”

How you looked in the mirror at yourself after a “situation” that had to be dealt with with Red Jack’s. Many times this would happen. Blood splattered on your face, gun still hot in your holster. Eyes blank as you stared at yourself. The face of an enforcer, a killer. Judge and executioner.

That who you felt you really were.

You felt two soft hands gently nudge your body. Turning you to face him, Spike’s hold on you was still. You didn’t know what was about to happen. You didn’t want to know what he was going to say. It was going to hurt either way.

“Whoever you think is the real you, it isn’t. People change, (Y/N). Sometimes for the better. You took the bigger step to leave the life you thought you knew. It’s hard to do. Most can’t come to terms with the thought.” He stated, voice low. “But you did.”

You nodded.

“I wasn’t honest either with Jet. I wanted to keep what I was a secret, out of sight and mind.” He confessed. “I think that’s why I’m not as upset. It's because I’ve been down the road and I did the same thing. Hypocritical of me to judge.”

“Its going to be hard to forgive me.”

Spike shook his head. “I already have forgiven you. But I need you to listen to me.” His hands trailed from your arms to the frame of your face, allowing you to see him. “I need to trust you. You need to trust me. If we are going to make this work, it has to be that way. No more secrets or lies.”

“No more secrets or lies.” You repeated back, taking Spike’s words to your head, cementing it deep to never forget. “I really don’t want to lose you.”

“You never will.” He replied, kissing your forehead softly. His lips lingered, sending another bout of relief throughout your body. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You sighed, placing your hand over his.

You both sat on the bridge for an eternity. Silent, except the deep thumps of your hearts beating and a shuffle as you made yourself comfortable in Spike’s arms. There was nothing spoken, but it wasn’t awkward. Nothing needed to be said. Spike held on as tightly as you did.

Your head rested on Spike’s chest. The future brought uncertainty. It still plagued your mind. In the moment where you should’ve felt safe, a pang of dread was in your side. You had to protect your new home somehow. Your home was Spike, but it wasn’t only him.

It was Jet.

It was Faye.

It was Ein and Ed.

You looked up at Spike, not surprised to see the man you loved deep in thought. Was he thinking the same thing as you? Your plan that you put on the backburner was set aflame once more. This home you have, the one you prayed and begged for, was going to be fought until the end. Seeing it, you would give anything to keep it safe.

“Spike?”

“Hmm?”

“If something happens, are you with me? By my side?”

You felt the intake of breath from Spike.

“Until the very end. I’ll always be with you.”

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inkpot909 · 1 year

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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!”

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

Note

Omg spike and [ PIN ] ; the sender pins the receiver against the wall from the writing prompts? 👀

A/n: I apologize for this taking forever.

It’s not like he lent to pin you to the wall, but some assholes were getting to close he thinking quickly he thought of the best solution, which involved him pinning you to a wall in a nearby alleyway. His lips pressed against yours.

Since you were considerably short than he was the man had to bend down. Though you seemed just as eager to kiss him back since your fingers were clutching his shirt tightly.

Breaking the kiss, Spike nuzzled his nose into your neck as a small laugh escaped your lips. Smiling you gave his hair a harsh tug then gently pushed him ma way.

“Never knew you were one to run away from a bunch of thugs Spike.”

Huffing, Spike crossed his arms over his chest watching you as you slipped out of that alleyway. His hands clutching your wrist pulling you to his chest. “Can’t I kiss you.”

Rolling your eyes you placed a small kiss to his lips then wove your fingers through his as you steered to make your way back go the ship. “Then since you feel that way so much we can kiss all you want back on the ship.” You teased.

#drabbles #drabble #spike spiegel x you #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #cowboy bebop x you #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop #anime x reader #anime x you #anime x y/n #cowboy bebop x y/n

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elysianavenue · 11 months

Text

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.

#cowboy bebop #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x you #spike spiegel x reader #cowboy bebop x reader

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manias-wordcount · 11 months

Note

ok so

Spike treated y/n bad because he didnt know how to confess to them and they were so nice to him and the group but when the reader gets badly injured(like near death but no) by protecting Spike he confess his feelings to them, but like telling them to stay amybe crying,calling himself stupid for not telling them sooner

the reader survives and they get togheter in the end and maybe a kiss? (edited)

tahnks in advance

Deserving (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝗟𝗢𝗟 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

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

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

When he pushes open the door to your bedroom on the Bebop, he knows deep down he shouldn’t be here. That he doesn’t deserve to be here. But that doesn’t stop him from giving into his bottomless feelings of guilt and regret. That won’t stop him from trying to right a wrong he should have corrected a long, long, long time ago. Before it got this bad. Before it even started.

Before you got hurt.

He sighs. For a while, it’s the only sound in the room. But he can’t help it. You look so pretty when you’re asleep. You’re pretty all the time too.

But he knows you’d be even prettier if you were up on your feet- doing all the things you’ve proved to him that you could do. Countless times. Over and over again. Spike lets out another sigh. You’re so pretty when you’re asleep. But he hates seeing you like this.

In the darkness of your room, it’s hard for him to see clearly. Hard for him to think clearly too. But he can still make out the shape, the figure, and the details of your body as you lay in your bed, resting to your heart's content. You look peaceful like this. Hair spread across the pillow instead of being tucked out of your way. Lips barely parted as the tiniest snores pass through them so easily. Eyelids closed softly instead of being squeezed shut with some type of emotion he doesn’t want to see your face hold. Chest rising and falling with every breath. No matter how deep. No matter how shallow. No matter how many bandages peak out from beneath the covers and hide away the horrible ways some stupid fucking bounty succeeded in hurting you.

You look peaceful like this despite all that’s happened. But he’s glad about that. He’s glad you’ve been able to find your peace. You deserve it. You deserve it as much as he doesn’t deserve you. And by god, he doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve an inch of your time. A fraction of your mile. None of it.

But he wants it. He wants it so bad it’s scary. He wants it so bad that it hurts him. It hurts him hard. And the things that hurt him always have their way of coming back around and finding their way onto you.

He sighs again. And then he walks forward.

Now, Spike’s always been a runner. Always have been. Always will. He ran for the syndicate. Then he ran from them. Now he runs toward freedom. But it’s hard. He finds himself doing the chasing almost as much as he does the running. When he’s looking up at the ceiling- all lazy-like and perfect with his hands behind his head and TV on low- he wants to imagine his world without a single care in the world. But he can’t. He can’t because he still finds himself running in his daydreams. Something a little better. Something a little nicer. Something he can be proud of. Something worth all that running for.

But for you? He doesn’t run. Not this time. For you, it’s a slow walk to the side of your bed. Nice and easy. Easy and slow. He owes a lot to you, but he can start by doing this much for you. He can do so much. And you’d deserve it. You’d deserve it.

His footsteps echo around the room as he makes his approach. He silences them the best he can, but he isn’t perfect. He wants you to get your rest. He wants you to recover. To feel better sooner. To sit up and tug all the bandages off like they never belonged there, to begin with. He wants a lot of things. He is a lot of things. He owes a lot of things. It’s not one bit fair to you. Not one bit at all.

But when he makes his way to the side of your bed, and he looks down, he’s reminded that life isn’t fair. Not to him. Not to you. Because if life were fair, he’d been lying in bed resting and hoping for the chance that you would come to visit him. Would you? He doesn’t know. He was never fair to you. He was never fair to himself either, but he was never fair to you.

He racks his hand through his hair after a moment of silence. And despite everything, he lets out another sigh before crouching down by your bed. He’s closer to your level now. Close enough to make out some more of the bumps and bruises that decorate your skin. Dotted here. Speckled there. Just a little something- everywhere. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath. He doesn’t let it become a sigh. But it does force him to become something more. Thoughts unlocked. Memories unblocked. Something more. Something he hates. But he can’t help it.

He leans forward and kisses your skin. It’s still warm. You’re still alive. But that changes very little. Because he remembers.

He remembers every second of the day you were shot. Over a week ago and he can’t force it out of his mind. Not yet.

He remember what you wore. He remembers the sound of your voice. He remember digging in on you the first second he saw you that morning. Starting a fight he had no business stating all because you smiled at him with that kind and soft smile of yours, and you started to make his heart hurt. The type of fights he starts often. The type of fights he starts hating himself for afterward.

And He remembers the cash prize showcased on Big Shots the unarmed captured on the newest and baddest bandit in town before making a big deal about having to team with you and how that started another fight. He doesn’t let you rest. But if you keep smiling so prettily like that to everyone you meet, he’ll think you’re better off restless anyways. He remembers what little rations you had that morning before going out. And how he stole a more than hefty bite out of your meager little breakfast and made excuses to himself that he deserved to have that bite because liking you made him worthy.

Worthy of jackshit, anyhow.

But most of all, he remembers the expressions on your face. The very second you pulled out your own gun. The very second you were shot first. The very second it began to hurt. And the look on your face the very second Spike shot the man who tried to kill you in complete and utter anger.

He remembers how scared you looked. Like you thought he was going to shoot you next. Like you thought you didn’t know him. Like you thought you were going to die. He remembers every second of it.

And he remembers how it made him feel.

“Stupid,” he whispers into the silence. Gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut. Balled-up fists and a tight throat. He never did a single thing to deserve you. He never did a single thing to remedy it either. All he did was love you so hard that he pushed you away. All you did was be so sweet that he kept you from getting too close. But now you’re laying here after being dragged inches away from your death while he begs pathetically for your forgiveness in your sleep. And only in your sleep. He’s not brave enough to face you. He’s not deserving to face you. Not at all. Not one bit. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

So why does he feel like the hand suddenly running through his curls should stay?

Despite the red-hot guilt of your skin against his body burning himself. Despite that the horrible way it causes his heart to squeeze and scream out in pain. In anguish. In regret. Despite the fact that he knows he owes you a world that is at least half as kind and half as beautiful, and half as perfect as you are to him.

“It’s okay Spike…”

Despite everything you know.

“...I forgive you.”

Despite everything you know and so much more.

#spike spiegel cowboy bebop #spike cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop spike #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #spike #spike x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop fanfiction #cowboy bebop fanfic #cowboy bebop x reader #x reader #xreader #fanficiton #fanfic

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pix3lplays · 6 months

Note

ooooo Spike Spiegel! Don’t mind if I do >:)

okay…Spike with a jealous reader! Like she doesn’t like hearing about Julia or any of his other exes. Hates it and gets huffy when other girls fawn over Spike, etc…

How do you think he’d handle that…as I feel he’s kinda a free spirit and wouldn’t take too kindly to this

-The one and only 🎪anon

Sounds cute, let’s do it >:) My first Spike request aaaAAAA!! Thank you, 🎪anon, you Rock!

Cw! Jealous behavior, lots of pining, reader is Nosy, Spike calls you Sweetheart, Kabedon lol, toxicity from both parties, Passionate kissing, argument

-Spike Spiegel x Jealous!Reader-

He doesn’t mention Julia often. In fact, you’re typically the one who brings her up after you heard about her a single time and found out Spike may have feelings for this woman… He’s not really a Fan of you digging around his past. But once he realizes the problem is that you’re just Jealous… Well. He takes your nosiness a little less personally. In fact he might even play it up a bit, just to get under your skin. “Oh, Julia? Yeah, we have three kids together, why do you ask about her?” he said once when you pried. The way your face contorted was Very. Entertaining. If someone begins hitting on him while you’re nearby, there’s a decent chance he’ll flirt back, just to get a reaction out of you. He kinda likes the way you wriggle your way into the conversation, explaining he was a member of your crew and you were Actually on an important mission right now, even if you weren’t-

He teases you for it. Right in front of them. “What important mission, y/n?” he asks, and you just wanna smack that smug grin off his face.

“That was really lame, Spike,” you growl. He’s sleeping on the couch in the Bebop. Well. Trying to sleep. Your yelling at him was making that kind of difficult. His hands are behind his head, and he doesn’t even open his eyes at your sudden outburst. “What did I do this time?” “In the bar. When you Embarrassed me. I didn’t like that.” He yawns, readjusts on the couch, when suddenly you’re hovering over him, arms crossed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Yes you do. I don’t get it, Spike, why are you LIKE this?” He lazily opens one eye. “Like what?” “Completely stubborn, emotionally unavailable. You know you can TALK to me, right? You don’t have to try and get me jealous for my attention-” This strikes a nerve. He stands up suddenly, surprising you, and he really does Tower over you with his height… “And who said I wanted your attention?” You huff, stare at the floor for a second before meeting his gaze again. “Well you’ve SURE BEEN ACTING LIKE IT-the way you FLIRT AROUND and-” He cuts you off. “We’re not DATING, y/n, so what do you care?!” he leans a little closer to you and you feel yourself flush with embarrassment and anger and excitement at being this close to the man you’ve been pining after for so long. “What do I CARE?! We’re FRIENDS, Spike-I’m just looking out for you-“ “Friends? Is that really what you think, Sweetheart?” You hadn’t even realized where you were standing until he slams his hand on the wall of the Bebop behind you. “SPIKE.” “C’mon, SAY IT. I know you think about me. I know you want us to be more than friends-that’s why you HATE Julia, and anyone else who shows me attention, isn’t that RIGHT, y/n?!” “Shut up!” “Make me-” He’s leaning so, so close to you, and you were staring at his lips when he said it, and suddenly you aren’t thinking and your lips meet his in a passionate, angry kiss. He doesn’t pull away from you. He wraps his arms around your lower back, pulling you into his taller frame as he kissed you back. He tastes like cigarettes. You love it. Your hands find their way to his cheeks, helping you deepen the kiss even further. You pull away for a second, both of you breathing heavily and then you find each other’s lips again for what feels like a small eternity. “I knew it…” he says when you both have finally had enough. His forehead is pressed against yours. He’s smirking like the jerk he was. “Just stop it,” you reply, knowing if you let him speak he’d ruin the moment. He shrugs, pulls you against himself in a deep hug, and you wrap your arms around his neck in turn. This was Not how you were expecting your first kiss with Spike Spiegel to go…if you ever got it. But you knew you shouldn’t be surprised. After all…you kinda liked how unpredictable he was.

#Spike Spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #Cowboy bebop spike Spiegel x reader #Cowboy bebop Spike x reader

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idlestxrs · 1 year

Text

Western Nights (Part 1) | Spike Spiegel x Reader

Genre : Angst, Romance, Runaway

Warning(s) : Swearing, Violence, Stalking, Blood, Kidnapping.

Summary : You’re on the run from your small town. Freeing yourself of your religious cult, or so you thought as you caught news they were hunting after you. As you’re on your escape, you run into Spike Spiegel, and once push led to shove you knew you’d never be the same.

Note : This is somewhat inspired by Ethel Cain’s album, Preacher’s Daughter. However it won’t follow that story, just the religious aspects of it. I suggest giving it a listen! It’s a masterpiece.

You had been on the run for what seemed like forever. Long enough to have made it from Nebraska to Texas. Gas stations were your best friend. Only the ones with showers for travelers. You had been saving up money for over a year now to make this bold move, and paying for a stay in a hotel would’ve zapped it all in 3 days.

You found a train station that had tickets straight to California. That’s where you always wanted to go, but the ticket would cost half of your money. Being left with $100 to survive on after getting there didn’t sound very…appealing or manageable. Then again after phoning your friend Nathanial and finding out that people from that cult were hunting you down and planned on hanging you upon bringing you back there, sounded a lot less appealing.

You bit the bullet. “One ticket to California please.” You asked the lady in the booth. You coughed up the money. “The next train won’t be here until 10:30 tonight toots.” The lady spoke, her voice was raspy probably due to all the cigarettes she smoked.

You looked up at the clock…it was only 12:00 in the afternoon. You groaned as you sat down in the lobby with the few belongings you brought with you. You sat back on the wooden bench seating, staring at the grey, cracked ceiling. The place had dim florescent lighting, in reality the sun beaming through the windows did more than the lights themselves.

You couldn’t help but find a strange sense of serenity in it, and sighed. The feeling of being alone was scary yet satisfying at the same time. Nobody to tell you who you should be, but nobody to tell you everything is going to be ok either. Except yourself. You learned a lot about yourself on this journey so far. After everything you’d been through, finally felt content with yourself despite being totally alone. Sure there were people hunting you down, but they always thought you wanted to go to Florida. If anything they’d just lead themselves on the complete opposite end of the country and give up. You realized you could be a lot smarter than what you gave yourself credit for.

Your thoughts eventually blurred together leading you to feel drowsy, passing out on your bag next to you. You weren’t sure how much time went by before getting woken up by a poke on the shoulder. A man with messy black, green tinted hair stood in front of you. As you looked around, you noticed the place had suddenly filled up. Your eyes got a glimpse of the clock…2:00, dammit. You sat up and grabbed your bag, yawning. “Good nap?” The man asked with a slight smile on his face. “Decent.” You responded through another yawn. The man chuckled and spoke once again. “Mind if I take this seat next to you?” You sat your bag on the floor beside you, allowing him to sit. “Not like you had any other options.” You replied, giggling a bit yourself. He shrugged and sat down next to you. “There were some other options, but you seemed like the most pleasant person to sit next to.” He smiled and looked over at you. “So where are you headed?” He inquired. “Somewhere.” You responded dully. You weren’t sure why he’d come be so friendly with you, but your paranoia spiked in this moment. You didn’t want to risk anything at all.

He raised an eyebrow at your response. “Well…I’m headed to California. On my journey to the west! My name’s Spike, by the way. Spike Spiegel.” He shot you a big smile. You smiled back at him. “Y/N. I’m headed to California too.” You weren’t sure why you told him that. Your paranoid mind told you no, but something in your gut spoke for you. He seemed trustworthy. He’d find out you were going to the same place when you boarded the train anyway, so it really didn’t matter if you’d told him or not. Might as well be friendly.

“You know…our train doesn’t get here for another 7 hours.” He said with the hint of an idea in his voice. You hadn’t even realized you both had been talking for an hour straight. “Why don’t we go to the café downtown? It’s only about a 10 minute walk there.” Spike suggested. “Why not. It’s better than sitting and staring at the wall.” You sighed and stood up. As you both walked for the door, Spike sped up and opened it for you. “After you.” He said with cheesy grin on his face. “What a gentleman.” You weren’t as amused as he was, and all he did was laugh. “So, what set your sights on California?” Spike asked you as you both were walking down the brick sidewalk of the small down. Small business to window shop in littered the path to the Cafe, and it was times like these you wish you had more money. “To get away from my small town back in Nebraska.” Spike raised his eyebrow at your response. “Too small of a town for your liking or what?” He inquired. “To get away from the religion I was brought up in. It was cultish and there really wasn’t any other way out then to get shunned out of town, or get murdered before you got shunned. I’d been planning this for years.” You take a deep breath before letting out a deep sigh. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this. I just met you.” You stared at the ground, a feeling of guilt washing over you for suddenly dumping all this on the stranger who was starting to feel like less of one. A look of concern washed over Spike’s face. “Don’t apologize, really! If everyone in your town is like that I doubt you’ve really had the chance to get any of this off your chest to anyone without the fear of it coming back to bite you in the ass later.” He paused for a second, then suddenly his concern turned into shock. “Okay so wait. You ran all the way here to Texas from Nebraska?” All you did was nod, gesturing towards your backpack. “Wow...you’re a really strong willed person. I admire that.” He grinned. For the first time in your life, you felt like someone actually meant what they said about you. For you, and not some fake persona you put up to survive. “I really appreciate that.” Your voice seeped of a deep feeling of gratitude. You smiled back at him, and right after that you were walking up a small set of steps. You had made it to the Cafe. “After you.” Spike held the door open for you again. “Thanks.” You smiled at him again as you walked in. “Spike! It’s great to see you again!” The girl standing in front of the cash register shouted. It made you feel a lot more at ease about Spike considering people in the community liked him. Normally that would be a bad thing. Preacher’s usually were held to high esteem back in your town but were the most evil people in the town, but Spike was obviously a free spirited person. Free spirits that are well-liked are typically amazing people, or whatever that book you read back at home said. “Tabitha!” Spike called out. “Always a pleasure to see you too.” He smiled. “I’ll just get my usual. And whatever my new friend here wants.” He motioned to you and pointed at the menu. “I’ll just get the plain black coffee. It’s cheaper.” You spoke to the bubbly girl taking your order. “Don’t worry about the price, it’s on me.” Spike spoke up. “No. I appreciate it but I’ll pay for my own.” You attempted to convince him, but it really wasn’t any use. “You worked so hard to get here. At the very least you deserve whatever coffee you want. I’ve got plenty of money right now. I insist” He wasn’t going to give this up. “Fine I’ll get the cinnamon latte.” You quietly spoke. “Now that’s more like it.” He gave his signature cheesy grin and a thumbs up. You’d known him for what...4 hours now? Yet you already were familiar with one of his expressions. You’ve always loved cinnamon. It was a flavor that brought a strange sense of comfort to you, and you really needed comfort more than ever. As you both sat down at a table to wait on your coffee, your paranoia was rising for some reason at this moment, and it was written all over your face. “Everything okay?” Spike questioned. He read you like a book. “One thing I didn’t mention is I got word that people from my town were looking for me. I’m just nervous they’ll somehow follow my trail and find me. Apparently they want me dead.” You whispered. He nodded in understanding, and nothing could’ve prepared you for his next words. “Even if they do find you, I won’t let them take you. Trust me.” He looked serious about this. “I might not know you that well yet, but I’ll be damned if I miss the chance to get to know you better. Not only that, but I won’t allow you to go back there to die when you’ve only just started living.” You felt a weird sense of relief somewhat wash over you. You were still on alert, but his words made you feel safe. “I...wow. Thank you, if you really do mean that I’ll make sure I pay you back for this someday.” He chuckled at your response. “You wanna know how you can pay me back, yeah? Live and enjoy your life once you’re free from all this. That’s the only payment I need.” As Tabitha brought your coffee and you sipped on it, the mixture of the taste of cinnamon and Spike’s words made your eyes sting with tears. Your parents always warned you about strangers, claiming anyone not in the religion was trouble. If Spike was trouble, then trouble you’d get yourself into. The bell ringing from the door of the cafe interrupted your thoughts. A woman in all white, wearing a golden cross necklace walked in. Standing next to a man in a white suit, wearing the same necklace. You felt yourself get nauseous. You stared into Spike’s eyes with panic. “What’s u-” You cut him off by shushing him. “They’re looking for me. I know them.” You whispered in a panic. Luckily where you were both sat, you weren’t immediately visible upon walking in. “What do we do?” You were clearly shaken up, not really able to think. “Do you trust me?“ Spike whispered. You didn’t totally trust him yet, but it was either trust him or risk using your own thinking, which wasn’t really rational right now. “Yes.” You responded, and he nodded. He stood up, throwing his coat over him and motioning you to stand in next to him. He untied a string and it dropped the rest of the jacket. Was this guy a spy or something? It covered your legs, and he pulled you in close to him. You were hidden by just a piece of fabric in a dream. You prayed this would go well, but quickly realized how ironic that thought was. “Hey Tabitha! I’m ready for my shift. Where should I hang my coat up?“ You saw Spike wink, and Tabitha got the hint. “Just take it in the back!” She responded, as she then greeted the two people you desperately were trying to avoid. Spike walked into the back and left you back there as he put an apron on, making sure he blended into the role until they left. He gave you a brief hug and whispered, “It’ll be okay,” before walking back up into the front. You awkwardly sat in the back as you eavesdropped. “Have either of you seen this person on the side of this milk carton? This is my cousin.” The posh lady spoke up. You knew she was talking about you. “I haven’t. I’m so sorry.” Tabitha spoke up. “Well, someone saw them come in here today...” The posh man spoke up. “We asked someone, and they swore up and down...” He was gritting his teeth. “Well I hate to break it to you, but even if this person was here today, they’re gone by now.” Spike had a stern tone in his voice. “And you won’t speak to us like that.” You heard the two looking for you gasp. “Who are you to speak to us in such a fashion?” The woman spoke. “The same person who’s kicking you out of this cafe for talking to us the same way. Scram.” Spike demanded. You heard Tabitha gasp. You hated not being able to see what was going on up there. “You’ll learn not to speak to us like that again boy.” The man spat. “Go ahead and pull the trigger. We’ll see what God thinks of that.” Spike retorted. You felt sick to your stomach hearing a gun got pulled. “Let’s see who meets him first.” You peeked and saw Spike holding a gun to the man now. It was a stand off. “What’s the sour face for?” Spike taunted. “Do it. I fucking dare you.” Right before the man fired his gun, Spike ducked and popped back up, putting a bullet between the man’s eyes. The woman with him screamed. Luckily for them, nobody else was in the cafe. She bolted out of the cafe and a car screeched down the road. “The coast is clear.” Spike called out to you. Tabitha was locking up the cafe doors. “We’ll need to clean this up somehow.” Her breathing was all over the place. It was as intriguing to you as it was odd that Spike was calm. Blood was all over the floor. After what felt like hours of cleaning, there was no sight blood had even been here. Tabitha said she “knew a guy” who could take care of the body for them, and so you and Spike made your way back to the train station. “How were you so calm during all of that?” You blurted out. “Inside I was a nervous wreck, I just know how to not show it.” Spike sighed. “In reality I’m still shaken up too, but hey. Better him than you, right?” He patted you on the back. One hour was left until the train would be arriving. You had fallen asleep again, Spike allowing you to use his shoulder as a pillow. The nap was short-lived however, Spike was waking you up. “Hey, it’s time to board the train. Sit next to me, yeah?” He smiled. You weren’t going to leave his side now. He just killed for you. It would be downright cruel to tell him no. He let you sit on the inside next to the window. It was dark out, but you still stared out of the window at all the dimly lit sights. “Hey...I’ve got a question for you.” Spike broke the silence. “What is it?” You turned around and looked at him. “Wanna go see the west with me?” He smiled at you as he asked. “I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” You responded awkwardly. “What I mean is why not come travel with me? Stick by each other’s side, you know? After everything that happened today, something doesn’t feel right making this train ride the last time we see each other.” He looked down at the floor for a minute before looking back up at you, staring into your eyes. Your shaken up mind was screaming no, but your heart and gut were telling you to accept his offer. After a life of listening to your mind, it was time to start listening to your gut and your heart. Those were the things that gave you the nerve to run away in the first place. If you listened to your mind, you’d still be in Nebraska. You nodded as you spoke, not breaking eye contact with the man who had proven himself to you as someone you could trust. I mean, come on. He did just kill someone for you. “I agree. I can’t imagine this just being some one off moment with a stranger after everything that just...happened.” He smiled, not one of his cheesy ones, but a soft one. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m looking forward to getting to know you even more.” You both stared into each other’s eyes for a few seconds longer before chuckling awkwardly, turning to look back out of the window. You felt yourself getting sleepy, and as your head fell back to your seat, Spike caught you with his arm, gently moving you to lean against his shoulder instead. Eventually he let out a yawn, his head resting on top of yours as you both fell asleep on the train ride to California. After two days of travel, Spike was once again waking you up. You’d finally arrived in California. You sprung awake in excitement and held onto Spike’s arm. You didn’t really seem to realize you’d been doing it, and he didn’t really seem to mind, so you both walked off the train like this. “We’re actually here I can’t believe it!” You squealed. Spike led you both to a place to rent a car, then soon after pulled up to a hotel. After checking in, you both went up to your room. Two queen sized beds and finally some good air conditioning. You hadn’t slept on a bed in weeks, but you were too excited to sleep right now. “Can we go and explore?” You asked him. He happily nodded and you both ran out into the town, admiring all the city lights. However the part of you that explored back home kicked in and managed to find a quiet spot on a trail. You sat down, and Spike sat next to you. Staring up at the stars. “Look at those starts, it’s like they make a rose.” You were in awe at how pretty the sky was here too, just like back at home. “That one looks like a lion.” Spike chuckled. You both sat and admired the stars for hours, talking about whatever came to mind. Neither of you knew when it happened, but Spike’s arm was around you and you were leaning into him. “I finally feel like I’m living.” You sighed out in a relived and content way. “That’s what I like to hear.” He pulled you into him a little closer and you both kept soaking in the beautiful night sky above you.

#spike spiegel x reader #spike x reader #spike spiegel x you #cowboy bebop fanfiction #cowboy bebop fanfic #spike spiegel fanfic #spike spiegel fanfiction #ethel cain #spike spiegel

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lil-tokyo-42 · 11 months

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Assassin of jazz Spike spiegel x Y/N

why am i writing and posting at 1 in the morning? Bc i cant sleep! yayyy anyways- WARNING: Cursing ig th

-"Hi Laura, it's been a long time hasn't it? She was so happy to see you even though you guys have been together in the dojo for YEARS. "OMG DELTA HIII!!" She jumps to bear hug you. Even though she looks weak she is strong! "Whoa! Don't fucking hit me with your damn sword! Jeez..." She let go then took a long look at your color that the dojo master gave you. You had green for your color because you look like you could kill but can be kind and generous. Wouldn't be afraid to commit as many murders as you desired. Laura is yellow as for her being an energetic, lovely person. She still wouldn't be afraid to do her job though. "Wait why did i feel something on your back? Like, something long?"

-"Because I have swords." You said pressing a button on your back revealing the invisible swords that were behind your back the entire time. "Wow! Who gave you those? I kinda want some shit like that.." You giggled a little "Friend of sensei, she does this kind of tech." Vividly remembering the 'gift' received for your birthday, She had meant for it to be sent before it so you could test it on your birthday. "Oooo I just might need her number! I couldn't even see a speck of the sheath!" (it's the cover for a sword) "Yeah, it makes it really easy to stab someone in an alleyway without them getting suspicions!" You agreed. You suddenly went stiff, so did Laura. Starting to pull your weapons out, the person behind you starts to speak.

-"Whoa now! I know i said i wasn't coming, but I considered it!" Vicky came from the alleyway on the other side of the street. "Vicky!!" Laura said putting her sword back and running to her sneaky friend. "Hey Sunny but seriously you look like the sun gave you a makeover." She said bluntly "Oh yeah?! Well you look like a fruit roll up thrown up on you!" She spat. "YOU FUCKING BI-" Before she could finish her vulgar sentence, another voice came from the diner door. "VICTORIA MAYDAY" Vicky heard her full name by Lou.

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOUR CALLING MAYDAY!?" "AND WHO DO YOU THINK YOUR TALKING TO WITH THAT MOUTH" The vulgar conversation went on until you had to break it up while Laura, not doing anything about it standing there with the 'Oh no she did NOT' face. "STOP BOTH OF YOU OR IM SLICING YOUR HEADS OFF"

-Both of the women look at you. Vicky knew you were the stronger one so she gave up while Lou just went back to the diner with Laura following her for the pancakes. "Ya'll still got beef Vic?" you asking with laughter soon following. "Shut up...It's her fault I almost got my arm cut off by sensei." She said, remembering the time. "Yeah well Lou is the reason your a assassin" Saying while going into the diner with the other two."Yeah yeah..." Walking in with you.

I AM TIRED BRO I FELL ASLEEP LAST NIGHT AND NOW I HAVE TO WRITE AGAIN FOR LOKI UGHHHH.

anyways byeeee!

#spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x you #im tired

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tboywriter · 2 years

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I don't post often but I do write often -- all my in-progress works are written here and I'll update with a link when I post :D

all art/pics r not mine -- they're all from Pinterest LOL

last updated : 1/31/2024

* __ means I haven’t decided on the gender of the reader yet :/ <it'll be either gender neutral or male reader> also if things are listed under book/movie/tv/etc -- that's the adaptation I'm using !!

posted:

m o v i e s

The Holdovers | Angus Tully x gn!reader

t v

Cowboy Bebop | Spike Spiegel x gn!reader

Cowboy Bebop | Spike Spiegel Headcanons

o t h e r h e a d c a n o n s

( non - x r e a d e r )

modern!Harry Potter World Headcanons

under construction:

m o v i e s

Marvel | Pietro Maximoff x male!reader

HP | George Weasely x male!reader

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe | Edmund Pevensie x male!reader

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader | Edmund Pevensie x male!reader

Big Hero 6 | Tadashi Hamada x __!reader

Hells Angels | Mario x __!reader

t v

AHS | Michael Langdon x __!reader

AHS | Xavier Plympton x male!reader

Community | Abed Nadir x male!reader

Only Murders in the Building | Tim Kono x __!reader

Fairy Tail | Gray Fullbuster x male!reader

b o o k s

Maze Runner | Newt x male!reader

HP | tutor!Remus Lupin x __!reader

g a m e s

Monster Prom | Damien LaVey x gn!reader

Monster Prom | Damien LaVey Headcanons

The Arcana | Asra Alnazar x __!reader

As We Know It | Jude x male!reader

c e l e b r i t i e s

TXT | Choi Yeonjun x male!reader

TXT | mafia!Choi Yeonjun x male!reader

Actor | guidance counselor!Austin Butler x __!reader

p l a y s a n d m u s i c a l s

Cursed Child | Scorpius Malfoy x male!reader

#x reader #x male reader #x gender neutral reader #x trans reader #masterlist #fanfic #fanfiction

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mytheoristavenue · 1 year

Note

Please tell/show me Slave for you =D

Slave for you is a scrapped idea for Kinktober 22 that involves Spike Spiegel (Cowboy Bebop) x reader, where (Y/N) is the co owner of a night club and her husband has been running drugs out of the back, which caused him to gain a bounty. The story revolves around Spike and Jet coming to the club to arrest him, and (Y/N) giving them a discount on a VIP room, where she 'entertains' Spike.

#one piece coby #spike spiegel smut

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stargazer-dreamer · 1 year

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cowboy caregiver

character: spike spiegel reader: gender neutral summary: spike is sick. you realize the two of you have very different methods of dealing with that

★ spike spiegel does not get sick

★ that’s what he tells you as he wraps a blanket around himself and sniffles on the couch

★ he didn’t even bother getting dressed. couldn’t. not when he got up to do his morning workout and couldn’t make it past the bedroom door, already out of breath and muscles weak from the strain

★ he made it to the common room, but only just barely

★ despite his protests, you made him lemon tea. he preferred coffee, you knew, but this would work wonders for his throat

★ he sipped at it with a pout

★ the fridge needed restocking, so breakfast was instant ramen. you chose a kimchi flavored one to help with his sinuses—never mind the fact that he couldn’t handle even an ounce of heat

★ it was for his own good. he got out of bed when you told him not to

★ after his meal—after he gulped down the broth like his life depended on it and gasped for air a moment after—you sent him back to bed. whatever the future equivalent of vicks vaporub is was applied to his chest and upper lip, and he resisted the urge to immediately wipe it away

★ he was a bit of a brat, when he was sick. he whined and sought out comfort, all while stubbornly holding on to the claim that he wasn’t sick at all; a box of tissues down already and your hand forced into his hair, silently demanding you run your fingers through it

★ he reached for a box under his bed, one you’ve never seen before, but you confiscated the whole thing and forced into his hands a dose of store-bought medicine instead

★ “no,” he said. “i want my stuff. i don’t do well with drugs”

★ “this isn’t a drug,” you insisted. “spike, i’m giving you medicine”

★ he looked at you with all the sobriety someone with a fever could possibly muster. “all medicine are drugs”

★ eventually, you got him to down the dose and within minutes, he was snoring away

★ he didn’t wake up for the next twelve hours. you couldn’t help but feel a little bit bad about it

★ when you asked how he was feeling, he squinted and mumbled that he, admittedly, felt a little bit better, but not by much

★ he didn’t have much of an appetite, but after a bit of prodding, he managed to eat half a bowl of porridge

★ after that, you helped him into the shower

★ after about half an hour—about twenty minutes past his usual shower time—you came to check up on him

★ he was laying in the tub, water raining down on him, and he was positioned in such a way that you couldn’t quite tell if he was alive or not. the mumbled protest he gave after you shut off the faucet clued you in to the fact that he was trying to cool off

★ despite that, getting him back to bed was easy enough, the promise of a back rub sent him straight to his room, on his stomach, back presented to you

★ in the middle of it, he fell sleep but woke up immediately after you got up to leave

★ he didn’t want you to go. he agreed to another (lower) dose of medicine only if you read to him the book he had been slowly working through

★ he was asleep within seconds, but you couldn’t help but stay by his side for a little while longer. a kiss to his temple had him stirring, but he remained asleep

★ you smiled at him fondly. taking care of him was a full time job

#spike spiegel #spike spiegel imagine #spike spiegel imagines #spike headcanons #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel x y/n #spike spiegel x you #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop imagines #cowboy bebop imagine #cowboy bebop headcanons #hello i am sick

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venushasvixens · 2 years

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Okay, so I finally watched the final two episodes of Cowboy Bebop.

Yeah, Spike is definitely not alive. And I am truly heartbroken BUT…

The newest chapter of Life is but a Dream is almost finished! (And by finished I mean it’s probably going to release tonight or tomorrow) Emotions a plenty, so grab some tissues.

I’ll see you soon, space cowboys

#fanfiction #cowboy bebop #faye valentine #90s anime #jet black #radio free mars #spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel headcanons #spike spiegel requests #spike spiegel x you #spike spiegel x y/n #you’re going to carry that weight #see you space cowboy #whatever happens happens

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inkpot909 · 1 year

Note

I loved your one shot with Spike! He was soo pure with his feelings 😭Do you have any HC’s for when Spike realizes got a crush and he’s fallen in love with them?

A/n: Thank you so much for the lovely message; I’m glad you liked the one-shot! Spike Spiegel is one of my absolute favorite characters of all time, so I was more than happy to write this request for you. I hope you enjoy!

Warning(s): Swearing.

Falling in love overall brings out the best in Spike Spiegel.

Having a special someone in his life gives him the extra kick in the ass he often needs to keep motivated. Not long after realizing his feelings, many aspects of his life become something done ‘for you.’

He works hard as a bounty hunter, earning money in order to have the ability to support the both of you and show off his successes (you’re just about the only member on the Bebop he willingly financially assists). Taking a more active role in caring for Ein was born purely from wanting to share the weight with you.

Now, don’t be mistaken, he’s still your lazy yet loveable Spike. But there’s added pride in what he does that wouldn’t be quite the same without you in the picture.

Spike does not shy away from flirting. It comes to him naturally, meaning he’ll flirt with you a good amount even before learning the extent of his feelings. He’s confident, has his fair share of romantic experiences, and is aware he’s the type to turn heads.

What mainly separates his treatment of you and his short-term relationships/hookups, is that he’s very reactionary. Spike deeply cares about you, so he’s going to take his time in studying your body language and responses to his flirts. He’s patient enough to put in the time, and persistent enough to put in the work.

He’ll adjust his actions according to your responses, especially if you’re shy and don’t favor getting teased in front of other people. His usual approach is quite forward, regardless of location or the people around. But if that makes you nervous, he’ll start off much more discrete. Discomforts such as those matter a lot to him, as what’s important to you is important to him. And ultimately, he hopes that you’ll return his interest.

Not only that, but he’s a total showoff. From smoothly beating up a group of assholes, to lying about the amount of times he wins at card games with Jet. Even if you merely blush or smile, that’s good enough incentive for him. Jet once even felt the need to inform you it’s best to take what Spike tells you about his own skills with a grain of salt.

However, humor him and play along with the joke- he thinks it’s adorable. It boosts his ego, sure, but deep down he longs to know your opinion of him. Even if it’s tongue and cheek, it warms his heart to believe that you think so highly of him.

Before long, it’ll turn into a common conversation shared only between the two of you; especially when alone. It’s one of many inside jokes he’ll be sure to form with you.

Spike is also very protective. He wouldn’t ever describe himself as possessive, but he certainly likes keeping you within arms reach.

If you’re not a bounty hunter, he’s going to want to know where you are and how you’re doing quite often. Partially, he loves being your knight in shining armor, but it goes a bit deeper than that. The thought of not being able to keep you safe from his past or present… it eats away at his brain.

But if you're a bounty hunter as well, or generally engage in a dangerous lifestyle like him, he’ll hold back just a bit. He knows you can hold your own in tough situations (undoubtedly a huge reason as to why he fell for you in the first place). He does have his moments, though, where letting you run off towards peril is done begrudgingly. It’s hypocritical of him, but he cannot stand whenever you leave the Bebop without telling him beforehand. Spike could care less if Faye or Jet know about where you rush off to; just be sure to let him know. He’ll grow sick with worry if you’re gone for days on end, and isn’t above lecturing you on your recklessness.

Initially, it will admittedly take some time for him to realize how he feels about you. Especially if you meet after Julia’s unfortunate end, he’ll be closed off from his own emotions.

Regardless of that, he’s going to need a bit of a push. The life of a bounty hunter isn’t exactly a glamorous one, and he finds it difficult to deny his own hesitance over long-term relationships.

Luckily, the step he needs to take isn’t a large one. Just a moment of clarity; a skip of his heart beat. Full understanding of the warmth that builds within his chest every time you’re together practically comes at him with a steel chair. It was on an average afternoon, after having caught a decently-sized bounty:

With his chin held up, a cheeky whistle plays on Spike’s lips. Passers by give him a variety of strange looks, turned off by the tied-up man he’s practically dragging behind him. John Pilgrim was the name; a rowdy criminal with a shiny price tag attached to his person.

He tugs at his binds, letting out an obnoxious curse towards the bounty hunter. A mother walking by gives both him and Spike a disgusted look, covering her small child’s ears. Smiling casually, Spike gives her a nod and a pleasant “Howdy.”

Turning a corner, the Bebop is sitting just yards away. Ein’s excited barks quickly reach his ears; running circles around the ship's landing site. Ed is dancing around the chipper dog, cartwheeling and mimicking Ein’s yips. Jet is tinkering with Faye’s personal ship, a large frown on his face. You’re standing beside him, holding a bright red toolbox and observing his work in silent awe.

Glancing at Ein, Jet raises a brow. Searching for the source of the dog’s glee, Jet is the first to notice Spike’s return. ��Oi, Spike!” Jet calls out, immediately removing himself from Faye’s trashed ship. Ed stops cartwheeling, and your head perks up.

“Spike!” you squeak. Your hands both clasp over your heart, dropping the toolbox on top of Jet’s foot.

“Yowch! Fuck!” the older man shouts, inhaling a sharp breath. His knee bends upward, hopping on one foot as he mumbles more curses and profanities underneath his breath. Ed erupts in laughter, pointing at Jet. As always, any mocking tone in Ed’s voice is totally unintentional. “Jet Black! Jet Black! Give him some slack!”

Spike stops walking towards the Bebop, sighing. Home sweet home.

“Spike!” you call again. His eyes search for you, having lost track of you on top of the Bebop. He’s taken aback upon spotting you running towards him on ground-level. “You’re okay!” you pant, slowing to a stop in front of him before long. You clutch your stomach, having rushed yourself off the Bebop in mere seconds.

“Whoa, whoa, of course I’m alright,” he chuckled, nodding towards his annoyed captive. “Got the job all done and everything.”

“Well-...” you pause in order to take a breath, “You’d stopped responding to us. I figure that’s also why you don’t have your racer?”

He nods, “Yeah; I’m sure Jet will be happy to repair it when he’s done cleaning up Faye’s mess.”

You giggle, covering a hand over your mouth. Tilting your head to the side, you tell him earnestly, “I’m really so glad you’re safe… I was damn near ready to head out and look for you myself. Next time, tell us you’re abandoning your vehicle. Don’t get me so concerned! I worry about you, you know.”

Spike’s eyebrows rise in unison, and both his hands release any tension. Now… that’s real interesting. ‘I worry about you…’ your words echo in his mind. Briefly, he recalls past missions. You always are the first to greet him whenever he returns. A bright smile is spread on your lips regardless of whether or not the bounty was caught. Even if the others are annoyed, it never halts your expressed happiness. You’ve even engulfed him in tight hugs before, so thankful that in your joy, you’ve damn near thrown yourself at him.

‘I worry about you…’

Heat rushes to Spike’s cheeks. In slow motion, he watches you race back towards the Bebop. You’re going off about how you’re going to “tell Faye you’re back safe and sound!” but the majority of what you say flies over his head. Your arms spread wide and chin tilts upwards. Inspecting your body language, Spike swallows a gulp of spit.

Why hadn’t you hugged him this time if you were so concerned? He wouldn’t oppose it. No, he wouldn’t. In fact, his heart pounds desperately against his ribcage just imagining you taking the opportunity. Your arms wrapped around him, head buried in the crook of his neck, and the both of you sharing each others’ warmth. Even if it lasts for a moment…

Turning back to him, your smile falls. “Spike!” you exclaim, frantically tripping over your own feet as you stumble into another run.

Chuckling, Spike closes his eyes. In dramatic fashion, he opens his arms for you to rush into. He ignores his flushing cheeks, and pushing through the possibility of Jet or Ed watching him act like some romantic gush. Instead, he braces himself for impact.

Running footsteps blitz right past him, leaving his arms empty, and a tiny gust of wind fanning his face. “Huh?” Spike blurts, turning.

You’re running after John Pilgrim, wiggling away as discreetly as he can muster. He’s still bound up, but while Spike got lost in his thoughts, he’d slipped from the bounty hunter’s grasp with ease. You barely manage to keep up but with a single lunge forward, you tackle the man to the ground. He struggles against your grip, but you keep him pinned down, a feat made easier due to his restraints. “Spike!” you yell, “Why the hell did you let him go!?”

“Shit!” Spike exclaims, jerking his body forward and chasing after you.

After that day, Spike Spiegel no longer can define his feelings for you as anything other than affectionate and loving. It’s so clear to him at that point he’s nearly ashamed to have not understood before.

But being in such a state of mind allows hope to flood his heart, so he doesn’t get hung up on the fact. Instead, he immediately starts making up for lost time.

133 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years

Note

rosehip tea; how romantic are they? how do they show affection for Spike?

A/n: Spike my beloved!!!

Want more; send me a character and a prompt from the list here || send em here

Prompt used:

rosehip tea; how romantic are they? how do they show affection?

How romantic are they?:

Spike isn’t / wasn’t the most romantic guy when your first meet him. It’s not like he was ever give the chance to even be romantic given the life he has /leads. But it does not mean that he can’t. It is the little things that Spike does where you know that he loves you. He does try his best to remind you that he loves you. You mean the world to him and Spike is positive that his world / his life would mean nothing if he were ever to lose you.

How do they show affection?

Spike is 100% a physical type of man when he shows is affection.He’s not going to buy you all these gifts or do anything fancy. The man is a bounty hunter after all. What he will do is to make sure you are always safe. He may hold your hand out in public but he will keep his arm wrapped around your waist just so he know that you are safe. Spike will teach you self defense and teach you how to handle a gun so be prepared for that. Pretty sure this man is touched starved so he’s going to he clinging to you the entire time on the ship and great ready for a lot of kisses and sex. Once you know that this man loves you he’s not gonna wanna stop.

He will melt if you run your fingers through his hair.

#hc #hcs #spike spiegel #spike #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel x you #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop x you #Cowboy bebop x y/n #anime x reader #anime x you #anime x y/n #anime

130 notes · View notes

ghostbeam · 2 years

Text

forever is the sweetest con | spike spiegel

“I had it handled.” He says. You look at him in disbelief, standing up from the bed and walking across the room. He follows behind you, taking your wrist in his hand and spinning you around. You snap.

“Handled?” You cry. “Handled? You left me!”

“I’m here now! Doesn’t that count for something?” He argues, even though he doesn’t really believe it. He knows it doesn’t count, knows there’s nothing he could do to take back what he did to you. He left you behind, his best friend, the one person who truly understood him all for some woman who did the exact same to him.

Spike knows he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s looking down at you, and you have this look in your eyes that he doesn’t quite know how to read until your gaze flickers to his lips.

notes: ahhhh okay so this was written for @cyancherub‘s back from the dead collab which was so so cool to be a part of!! I’ve been working on this for a while and have been really nervous to write Spike but it's finally done and here! You can listen to the playlist I made for it here if you want to!! thanks for reading<3

warnings: 18+, minors dni, explicit content, violence, injury, blood, death (not Spike or reader), angst, a bit of pain play, facesitting, multiple orgasms, Spike picks reader up

words: 8.5k

Many knew Spike Spiegel as a feared member of the Red Dragon syndicate, someone who was possibly next in line to be the leader, but you knew him as your best friend.

Maybe it was wrong of you to be so close to a man who belonged to the same syndicate that kept a huge debt over your father’s head, but you never claimed to be morally sound.

And besides, it wasn’t like you’d ever be able to resist Spike if you tried, seeing as you were completely and utterly in love with him.

Vicious despises the bar that you work in. It’s meant to be a place for business, a place that keeps them out of the watchful eye of cops and enemy syndicates, but most of the men treat it like a playground. Clouded with smoke, the smell of cheap beer and cologne wafts through the air.

You watch Spike play Pool from across the room, swindling different syndicate members out of their money, game after game. He’s relaxed, his favorite bomber jacket hanging from his shoulders and an everpresent smirk playing on his lips. Vicious sits at the bar and keeps an eye on him, his face stuck in a glare, one that’s become permanent after talk of Spike’s future as a possible leader of the Dragons.

Spike shoots an 8-ball into one of the corner pockets, and the men surrounding the table erupt in a fit of cheers and defeated groans. He collects the money from their bets and strolls to the bar, taking a seat next to his partner and knocking his knuckles on the bar to get your attention.

Looking up from your anatomy textbook, you smile at the man. His face softens at the sight of you before Vicious mutters something to him, bringing his attention back. You make Spike a drink and slide it across the bar. He mutters a thanks, sweetheart before going back to his conversation. You don’t hear what Spike says to him, but Vicious stands from his stool and storms out of the bar.

“That guy needs to loosen up,” Spike grumbles, resting his head on his hand as he stares at you. You don’t look up from your textbook as you speak.

“You probably provoked him.” You shrug, turning the page. You hear him scoff.

“You’re supposed to be on my side, here.” He says, which makes you giggle.

“I’m always on your side, Spike.” You smile. Your eyes finally move from the page up to him, but he’s already looking at the beautiful blonde woman entering the bar with Vicious. With another knock on the bar, Spike gets your attention.

“Who’s that?” He questions, pointing his chin in her direction. You look at him, puzzled. Surely, he knew who Julia was.

“Is that a joke?” You wonder aloud as he turns back to you. His lips pull into a smirk as he speaks.

“Aw, don’t worry, sweetheart. You’re still my best girl.” He tells you, tapping a finger under your chin. There had always been something in the space between you and Spike, something unspoken, something you’d never dare to address. He makes your heart race and your stomach turn, but he’s your best friend first, and until he’s done with the syndicate and you’ve made your way through med school, neither of you are ready for that to turn into more.

“That’s Julia.” You tell him, though you still aren’t completely sure if he’s messing with you or not. It was common knowledge that Vicious had started seeing her recently. You’d even seen her come into the bar a few times, so how was it possible that Spike didn’t know who she was?

He turns back around in his stool as he straightens out his bomber jacket and runs a hand through his messy green mop. He tests her name out. “Julia.”

You watch him make his way from the bar to Vicious and Julia, and you don’t bother to call him back to warn him. You can see realization hit him, his eyes flickering between the two as Vicious’ frown deepens. Julia, however, looks utterly intrigued with Spike. Something passes between the two of them when their eyes meet. You can feel it from across the room.

And you know that whatever lies in the space between you and Spike no longer matters.

You don’t remember what life was like before Spike, but you’re starting to think it was a little something like your days now.

That day at the bar changed everything. You were seeing less and less of him, but it wasn’t the first instance that Spike had been distant because of his job. It was, however, the first time Spike had been distant because of a girl.

Spike walks into the bar on a Wednesday night, the place almost completely empty on a weekday. You fill the glass of a regular customer as your best friend makes his way to you. He takes a seat and knocks on the bar, his head resting in his hands as he waits for you to notice.

“Long time, no see.” You speak with a soft smile. It’s only been a few months, but things are already different between the two of you.

“Been busy.” He shrugs. His nonchalance makes something burn in your stomach, anger bubbling inside you at his lack of care for your friendship, but you push all of that away. He’s here now, and that’s all that matters.

“Yeah? With what?” You question, even though you know exactly what he’s been busy with. Spike looks down at the bar, rapping his knuckles on the surface before looking back up at you with an unreadable expression on his face. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, “What? What is it? Why do you look so guilty?”

“I think,” He begins, “I’m seeing Julia.”

You snort, “You think you are?”

“I know–” He says. He closes his eyes in frustration and shakes his head like he’s trying to shake something from his brain. “I am. I am seeing Julia.”

It hurts to hear it. If you’re being completely honest, it feels like he’s reached inside of your chest, crushed it between two hands, and left it here to rot. But you don’t want to be dramatic, so instead. you speak. “I know. I mean, I figured as much.”

“Uh-huh.” Spike nods slowly, suspicious of your words, “What are you thinking?”

He talks like you’re a wild animal, like you’ll lean over and take a bite from his neck if he’s not careful with his words. It irritates you, how suspicious he is of you. You aren’t fragile. You aren’t going to break over the idea of him loving someone else, at least not in front of him. And you certainly aren’t going to be the one to address what lies between you.

“I’m thinking that if you’re happy, then I’m happy.” You say because it’s the truth. You’d much rather Spike be happy with you, but if Julia is who he wants, then what makes you think you can stop that?

“And that’s it?” He questions, his guard still visibly up, much to your dismay.

“That’s it.” You confirm. You smile, trying to put him at ease. You don’t want him to be afraid of your reaction, but it at the very least tells you that he knows that for the past couple of years, there definitely was something going on between the two of you, no matter how hard you both tried to ignore it.

After that, things slowly went back to normal. While you weren’t seeing Spike as much as you used to, he still came to see you when he could. About a month after revealing his relationship with Julia to you, you catch Spike climbing through the window of your apartment above the bar at three a.m.

It wasn’t the first time Spike had climbed through your window, choosing to sneak in that way instead of dealing with your father who deemed him a bad influence immediately after meeting him. And even though Spike had done this time and time again, it was his first time visiting you like this after seeing Julia.

You jolt awake at the sound of your best friend stealthily rolling through your open window and into your dark bedroom. You turn around in your bed to look at him and feel your heart flutter at the sight of him, the action so familiar and warm.

“Spike?” You ask groggily, voice rough from sleep. Sitting up in bed, you rub your eyes, adjusting to the darkness. He says nothing as he sits on the bed across from you. There isn’t enough light to see the expression on his face, but you hear him sigh.

“I’m leaving the syndicate.” He speaks. You feel as if the air has been knocked from your lungs at his words. A pit forms in your stomach as you realize what he’s just said.

“What are you talking about?” You manage to ask, even though your voice shakes as you do. “What happened?”

“I’m leaving.” He says. “With Julia.”

And it breaks your heart to hear. It breaks your heart to know that he would risk his life to love her, but not you.

“You’ll be killed.” You urge. No one leaves the Dragons unless it’s to die, and you know that if Spike tries, you’ll never see him again.

“I won't.” He shakes his head. “I won’t. She’s meeting me at the cemetery by her place. I have a distraction planned, so we can get out of here before they notice we’re gone.”

“And what about–” You start to ask before cutting yourself off. What about us?

You look down at your lap, embarrassed by your thoughts. Spike’s hand comes up to cup your cheek. He moves your face to look at him, though he’s still difficult to see in the darkness of your room.

“You?” He asks like he knows that’s what you’re thinking. “You are going to finish medical school. You’re gonna get a residency at a hospital somewhere far away from here, and pay off your father’s debts. And I’m going to see you again. I can promise you that much. It might not be anytime soon, but I won’t forget you.”

You’re crying now, feeling the tears stream down your face as you listen to him speak. He rubs a thumb underneath your eye, catching what falls there. You know how this ends. It’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

“I love you, Spike.” It’s the first time you’ve ever said it to him. That’s what lies between you: love.

“I love you, too.” He nods. It’s also the first time he’s ever said it to you. It’s the first time he’s ever said it to anyone. You can’t see anything but the reflection of the moon that shines through your window in his eyes. Your hand finds his, resting over where he cups your face, and you struggle to hold the moment close to your heart.

Spike stands. He places a soft kiss to your forehead, and he leaves out the window like he always has.

Only this time, he’s not coming back.

Hours later as you open up the bar, Vicious and a swarm of Red Dragons storm through the door. You watch from behind the bar as they tear the place apart. Men look in corners and behind the bar, in the restrooms, at the back of the building. A group of men rush up the stairs that lead up to your apartment, and when you think of your father, you move to follow.

Vicious is fast, though, and you’re pushed up against the wall of liquor behind the bar, his katana dangerously close to the soft flesh of your neck.

“Where is he?” He asks. You struggle in his hold before he presses the blade closer.

“I don’t know.” You breathe, trying to stay still. The blade is pushed harder into you, sharp enough to break the skin from the pressure. You wince, and he grins.

“I just need to know where they’ve gone.” He speaks, his voice sending chills down your spine. “If you can tell me that, I’ll let you live.”

“Vicious, I don’t know. He didn't tell me anything.” You try to lie, but it’s clear that he doesn’t believe you. He says your name as a warning as he moves even closer to you. “Don’t you think I would! Don’t you think if I knew where he was, I would tell you? He broke my heart too, you know. He chose her. He left. All I want is for my father to be free from you.”

You hope the lie is convincing enough. You can see him analyze you, the gears turning in his head as he wonders if he can trust your words or not. You speak again, hoping to prove yourself.

“Spike had a choice–” You say. “and he chose her. I’m not going to protect him. I don’t know where he is.”

He looks you up and down before releasing you. “We’re done here.”

One of the men at the base of the stairs commands the rest in your apartment to return, you let out a sigh of relief. A man comes down the stairs behind the group, wiping blood from his sword with a cloth.

“The man is dead, sir.” He tells Vicious, motioning his head up the stairs. Your body moves forward on its own before Vicious captures you in his hold once more.

“Wait!” You yell, trying to force your way out of his hold. A strangled scream gets caught in your through. Vicious moves to push you back against the wall of alcohol, bottles falling to the floor as he does. He moves his Katana to the side of your neck, dragging the blade slowly against the flesh, creating a large gash there. You bring your hand up to put pressure on the wound. Vicious smirks.

“Consider your life spared.” He says. He moves closer to whisper in your ear. “Be gone by midnight.”

You fall to your knees as he lets go of you, and you hear the men leave the bar. Staring at the spilled liquor and broken glass on the floor, dread fills your stomach.

You stand in the bathroom of your apartment, stitching up your neck as your father lays in a pool of his own blood on your kitchen floor, and this time, you can’t call Spike.

…

You’re always on the move, living one bounty to the next. If you’re lucky, you can find a hotel cheap enough to stay in for a few nights, but you spend most of your nights on your small aircraft. It’s a piece of shit, but it’s your baby, the first ship you ever bought with your last bit of woolongs after leaving

Bounty hunting is hell. The things you have to go through for a couple of bucks isn’t nearly enough to make it worth it. Freedom, however, the freedom is worth it.

The bounty you’re chasing is a small fry, to say the least. Caught on a couple of accounts of threat and fraud, you know he won’t be difficult to take in. Last seen on Ganymede with a large beard as a disguise, he’s incredibly easy to find

You had been following him for blocks, watching him walk into a record store, then a grocery store, seemingly unaware that he was going to jail in just a few moments.

You pull your mask up around your face as you approach, something you always did while hunting a bounty.

You spot the man again as he turns down an alley. You sneak around the building, hoping to catch him off guard once he comes out the other end of the alley. You stand against the wall of the old building, your gun pressed to your chest. Letting out a deep breath, you turn the corner quickly, pointing your gun in the direction of the bounty.

Only, he’s not alone

“What the hell?” Standing there with an air of nonchalance, is Spike Spiegel, one arm holding his gun up to the bounty, who stands between the two of you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. You’re too late.” He tells you, completely unaware of who you are.

You’re surprised to see the man you believed to be dead, but mostly you’re angry.

“I’ve been following him for thirty blocks! He’s mine.” You say. For a moment, you think maybe Spike recognizes you, noticing a flash of confusion in his eyes before he recovers.

“Not my problem. I was here first.” He says, shrugging. Amid the argument, your bounty tries to run, turning towards you, and trying to push his way past you. Anticipating his move, you move to pack a punch straight to his gut and kick your knee into his groin for good measure. He falls to the floor instantly.

“Yeah, you’re not going anywhere.” You tell the man lying on the floor, before looking back up at Spike. You can’t lose the bounty, so the only thing you know to do is fight. You push a kick up towards Spike, who blocks it easily.

“I’m not fighting you for him. He’s mine.” He tells you, but he doesn’t notice your left hook moving towards his jaw. He’s taken back, bringing his hand up to his now bloodied lip, “Fine.”

He advances towards you, aiming for your stomach, but you’re quick to dodge his hit. You bring your leg up again to kick, and this time Spike catches it in the air, pulling it so that you fall onto your back.

He moves fast, straddling you to keep you down. Spike reaches for his pair of handcuffs, but you don’t let him get the chance. You knee him between his legs, causing him to yelp in pain.

It gives you enough time to push all your weight onto him, holding his hands up over his head and pinning him against the gravel. Spike recovers quickly, wrapping his legs around your waist, and changing your position so he’s back on top. You let out a breath, exhausted from the exchange.

“Can I take you to dinner?” He flirts playfully, looking you up and down. It reminds you of your past and you can’t fight the smile that threatens to cross your face.

“I see you haven’t changed much.” You tell him. You figure there’s no point in fighting. Spike had always been stronger than you, and you weren’t going to win this fight. You watch his face scrunch into confusion as he brings his hand up to pull your mask down. He jumps back in surprise, pulling his body off of yours.

He yells your name in surprise as you stand up. Dusting yourself off, you extend a hand to him to help him off the ground.

“I see you’re back from the dead.” You say, your voice a little bitter.

“How-” He starts, running his hand through his unruly hair, “What are you doing chasing bounties?”

“Seriously?” You ask, with a hand on your hip, “I’m not telling you shit until you explain how you’re alive.”

“I-” He begins, but he stops himself. Despite the fact that you were most likely going to resist, Spike pulls your body into a tight hug, feeling you relax at the contact.

“Goddamn, you.” You say, your face buried in his neck. You don’t want to be hugging him. You want to be angry, and you want an explanation.

But this is Spike. You’ve never been able to stay mad at him before, and even though you’re still angry, more than anything, you’re happy to see him.

“Where are you staying?” He asks you, pulling away, but keeping his arms around you to ensure that you’re real.

“Here and there.” You shrug, earning a concerned look from Spike, “On my ship.”

“You have a ship?” He asks.

“Yeah, a small MONO zipcraft.” You tell him, watching his face drop.

“You can’t live on a zipcraft.” He deadpans.

“Actually, I can.” You say. He stares at you for a moment. “I’m staying at this shitty hotel, though, for now.”

He looks you up and down, thinking long and hard before he speaks again.

“Can I see it?”

…

You were right, the hotel is shitty.

You sit on the bed with one leg tucked underneath you. It’s the only place for you to sit, seeing as there’s no other furniture besides a bedside table. He sits across from you, and you try not to think about how familiar this feels.

Spotting the crumpled pack of cigarettes in Spike’s jacket pocket, you reach over to take them, placing a stick between your lips.

“So,” You begin as Spike leans over to light your cigarette. “start explaining.”

“Since when do you smoke?” He asks, watching you exhale. The smoke looks pretty as you blow it from your lips, he thinks, his ears growing red at the sight.

“Stop deflecting.” You order.

“There’s not much to say.” He shrugs, running a hand through his hair. “I faked my death. I thought she would meet me there, but she didn’t. I was stupid. I trusted her. What more is there to say?”

“How about ‘I’m sorry I faked my death and didn’t tell you.’” You suggest. He frowns.

“I told you we were leaving. You knew I wasn’t dead.” He tries to defend himself.

“You told me you were leaving the syndicate. I knew what that meant. Trying to do that’s as good as dying.” You tell him, anger bubbling in your gut.

“Handled?” You cry. “Handled? You left me!”

Spike knows he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s looking down at you, and you have this look in your eyes that he doesn’t quite know how to read until your gaze flickers to his lips.

And so he kisses you, harsh and messy, teeth grazing your lip and licking into your mouth, years of hunger finally satiated. You fist his button-up with your hands, trying to bring him impossibly closer. It’s nothing like you thought your first kiss with him would be, and it’s not how Spike wants to kiss you, but it’s all he’s got.

His fingers leave indents in the flesh of your hips as he urges you up into his arms, your legs hooking around his torso as he walks you to the bed. You’re thrown onto the worn-out mattress, and Spike looms over you, taking you all in.

It’s you. You’re here, really here, and not in some dream he’s waiting to wake up from. You’re flesh and bone under his hands under his lips. He leaves marks on your skin, sinks his teeth into muscle. You’re everywhere, the scent of you, your voice like his favorite old earth record. It’s almost too much for him, the reality of his desire for you, the feelings in his chest that he so carefully kept locked up have spilled out and over your bodies in a matter of seconds.

And Spike knows he can’t handle it, any of it, not you or him, or how Julia still lingers in the back of his mind like he’s some kind of traitor for loving you.

So, he lays there with you, and he waits until your breath has become steady, and he slips out the door.

…

Only, Spike can’t stay away, not after everything, not after he’s had you.

And if the universe didn’t want you to be together, then the Bebop wouldn’t have broken down on Ganymede in need of a part that won’t arrive for a few more days.

At least, that’s what Spike tells himself. He’s never believed in any kind of otherworldly interference, no belief in fate or destiny, but he does believe in you, something real, absolute, with evidence in the form of the bruises that litter his neck and chest.

So he spends his last couple of woolongs on breakfast for the two of you, and he knocks on your hotel door.

The door swings open, and he’s met with your face pulled into an angry pout. You’re dressed for the day, jacket pulled over your shoulders like you have somewhere to be, but he can still see the evidence of the night before on your neck. You take one look at him and close the door on him, turning the lock and adjusting the chain on the door.

Spike’s brows pull into a frown at your behavior. He clumsily pushes the two coffee cups and the bag of pastries he’s brought with him into one arm and bangs on the shoddy door with his other.

“Hey!” He yells through the door. “The hell are you doing?”

“Go away, Spike!” Your voice sounds on the other side of the door. Your voice is close enough so he knows that you’re pressed up against it.

“Open the door.” He commands from his side, calling your name.

“No!” You call. “I’m done letting you in, not when you’re just gonna keep leaving.”

He sighs on the other side of the door, leaning his back against it. “I was getting breakfast.”

He tries to defend himself, hoping you’ll believe his lie. He’s surprised to feel the door move from behind him, his body stumbling through the door of your hotel as he tries to keep the cups in his arm from spilling. He finds his footing and stands up straight, setting your breakfast on the bedside table and shutting your door with one arm.

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You ask him, arms crossed over your chest. Spike shakes his head and pulls his cigarettes from his breast pocket. He lights one up and talks around it.

“What are you talking about?” He asks, taking a step forward. You scoff at him, fed up with his insistence on playing innocent.

“I’m talking about last night!” You hiss. “What–you sneak out in the middle of the night like I’m no one and come back in the morning with cheap coffee like you did nothing wrong? That was your plan?”

“Basically.” Spike mumbles. He’s looking anywhere but you, inhaling more of his cigarette than oxygen.

“Just get out. Fuck off.” You throw your hands up, turning around to walk away. “I don’t care anymore.”

“Can we just–” Spike sighs. “–talk?”

“What do you wanna talk about, Spike?” You question, urging him to speak, “Huh? What’s there to talk about?”

“This. Us. You and me.” He tries, crossing the room in long strides. You shake your head in disbelief.

“There is no ‘us’.” You argue.

“There is.” He barks. And finally, you’ve had enough. You’re done protecting him from the truth, and you want him to hurt.

“Do you know what happened after you left me?” You ask. “Vicious paid me a visit. He threatened me and killed my father, all ‘cause you wanted to fall in love.”

Your words are said with venom, cutting through him like a knife. He physically flinches as you tell him, and you move your head to bare your neck to him.

He takes a step forward and hesitantly brings a hand up to your neck. When you show no sign of protest, he runs a thumb over the scar that Vicious left behind. He’s not sure how he missed it before, the night that he’d touched every inch of you, committing it to memory.

“He did this?” Spike asks, his voice ripe with anger. You nod.

“He let me live.” You tell him. “I don’t know why he did it, even told me to get out of there by midnight.”

“He told you to leave?” He questions, his hand still caressing your neck. “Why would he do that? Why wouldn’t he just kill you?”

“I don’t know, Spike.” You snap, pulling away from his hand. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It does–” He says. “It does matter. It happened because of me.”

“I know.” Your words silence him. You look down at the ground and then up at him again. Spike thinks he’ll see anger in your eyes, but they’re just sad, so sad. “You left, and I needed you.”

“I’m sorry–I’m so sorry.” He says, choking on the words. He takes a step forward as you take a step back. He feels the ash of his cigarette burn his fingers in his other hand, the stick now nothing but the filter. He drops it onto the dirty hotel carpet, not caring to pick it up as he steps forward once more. You eye the butt on the ground before looking back up at him.

“You’re a dick.” You say because it’s true.

“It’s already a mess.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I can’t stand you.”

“That's not true.” He shakes his head, finally moving to stand in front of you.

“I wish it was.” You let out a breath, staring at your feet. You bring your hand up to the marks around your neck. “You’re all over me. I hate seeing it. I hate looking in the mirror.”

And it breaks him, the thought that you hate the evidence of him on your skin when he’s so proud to wear you. He loves the scratches down his back, the marks across his neck and chest, how they ache. It’s real. It’s real. It’s real.

“Come here.” He whispers. You shake your head.

“No.” Your voice shakes, your arms wrapped around your abdomen like you’re protecting yourself

Spike reaches an arm out, wraps his hand around your wrist, and pulls you forward. “Come here.”

You stand in front of him, looking anywhere but in his mismatched eyes. Spike thumbs the buttons of his shirt, pulling the front of it open. He takes your hand and brings it to his chest. You hesitate above his skin before you make contact. He guides your fingers across the marks. He’s asking you to feel him, asking you if he’s as real to you as you are to him.

Your fingers pause over a bruise before you press into his skin. Spike gasps at the pain, and you finally look up into his eyes. He moves your hand again, ghosting over the next before you sink the tips of two fingers into the bruise in the dip of his collarbone. He hisses, wrapping his hand around your wrist in a tight grip.

“You wanna hurt me?” He questions. “That’s what you want?”

“I should.” You whisper. He nods.

“You should.” He guides your hand to the next mark, something dark right the left side of his chest. You feel the skin underneath your fingers before you splay your hand out against him and push. You push until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he stumbles back against the mattress. You stand above him, your body in between his legs as he looks up at you.

“You’ll leave again.” You tell him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down so you’re straddling him.

“I won’t.” He whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. You want to believe those words as much as he thinks he does, but you know he will. He’ll sneak out in the middle of the night, just like he always does.

Still, you close your eyes anyways. You let yourself move closer. You let him kiss you.

Nothing’s been resolved. Spike still has this pit in his stomach over what happened to you after he left. You don’t know if you’ll ever forgive him. And Julia looms over the two of you like a dark cloud.

But then Spike speaks.

“Baby.” He coos against your lips. He presses his own to yours, brief and chaste before pulling back to look at you. “I won’t.”

“Promise?” You ask, staring at him, but he doesn’t answer. He just surges forward and captures your lips in his.

He kisses you the way he’s always wanted to, the way you deserve. He’s soft and slow, his tongue slipping against your own, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. He pulls away, eyes darting over your face and taking in your lust-blown eyes, your kiss-swollen lips. He groans and buries his face in your neck, licking a long stripe up your neck, placing gentle kisses over the marks he left before.

Spike grips your hips in his large hands and grinds you down on his growing bulge. You gasp, throwing your head back and giving Spike even more room to drag his lips along the skin. His movements are nothing like they were before, the slow thrust of his hips up into yours, teasing you through layers of fabric as he sucks on your neck.

You pull away and lean down for a kiss, swirling your tongue against his as you run your fingers through his messy hair. He groans when you tug on it and you feel him smile against your lips. You press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, then his cheek and his jaw. You move your lips down to his neck, and his head falls back. He’s panting, moving your hips over him as you lick over the bruises on his skin.

You lean down and suck the marked skin, and Spike moans. You continue to suck and nip at his flesh, running your hands through his hair, over his shoulders, and down his chest. You pull away and kiss him again, unbuttoning what’s left of his shirt as you ghost your fingers over his lower stomach. Spike pulls away from the kiss, looking into your eyes as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his pants.

You stand up, pulling your jacket off of your shoulders. You let him pull your shirt up over your head, and undo the button of your jeans to pull them down. You move to lower yourself to your knees, but he stops you, his hands pulling you forward, back over to straddle his hips. The thin cotton of your panties is the only thing separating your sopping cunt from his dark pants, and you’re sure if you continued to grind against him, you’d leave a trace of yourself behind.

“Come here.” He rasps, laying himself back onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your thighs, urging you farther up his body. “Up.”

You stop when he pulls you up to his chest, staring down at him, hesitant to do what he’s asking, even though there’s excitement bubbling in your stomach. His hands caress the back of your thighs and he grins up at you, beckoning you forward with a tilt of his chin. “S’okay, c’mon.”

You let him guide you farther up his body, pulling your knees over his shoulders so you can straddle his face. Leaning back, you look down at him, running a hand through his hair, enjoying the lovesick look in his eyes before he’s even tasted you. Spike’s arm curls over your thigh, bringing his fingers to your sex, rubbing a circle over your clit through your panties. It makes you buck your hips, moving forward so that you’re not even inches away from his mouth.

You can feel his breath on your pussy through the fabric, and you look down at Spike in anticipation. He stares up at you, silently asking for permission. You push the hair that falls over his forehead back and nod, a shaky breath escaping you.

Spike grips your thighs, pushing you down onto his face. He licks you through your panties, the fabric clinging to you, and you whine at the feeling. “So wet for me.”

The movement of his lips against your cunt causes you to clench around nothing, and Spike presses his lips to you again, moving his tongue against you like there’s nothing between his tongue and your cunt. Unconsciously moving your hips, you grip his hair in one hand.

“S-Spike! Need to feel you.” You pant from above him. You can feel him smile against you before he hooks a finger under your panties and pulls them to the side, sticky strings of your arousal clinging to the fabric as he pulls it away. He wraps his arms around your legs once more and spreads your puffy folds with his fingers. He wastes no time pushing his face against your bare cunt, his tongue licking over you in long teasing stripes.

You move your hips, grinding on his face with your fingers tangled in his hair. Spike groans as he licks and sucks, bucking his hips up into nothing. You drive him crazy, the look in your eyes as you watch him, the slight sheen that clings to your skin under the shitty hotel light, how his fingers press into the flesh of your thighs, your hips, your breasts.

“Spike!” You cry out his name, grinding your hips harder against his face. He licks over your clit in circles, wrapping his lips around the swollen bud and helping you move your hips, his hands digging into your skin enough to hurt. “I’m gonna–ah–I’m so close!”

“Please.” You hear Spike, only he’s muffled underneath you as he tastes you. “Please, please, fuck! Please come for me.”

Spike pulls you even closer, licking and sucking over your slick cunt, the tightness in his pants becoming almost unbearable as your moans fill the room. You let him move your hips over his face, legs shaking on either side of him as you come, crying out his name while he continues to lap up your arousal. He licks one long stripe from your entrance to your clit, causing you to jolt at the overstimulation before he lets go of your hips and allows you to move away from him. Catching your breath, you move off of Spike staring down at him.

He’s a complete mess, his shirt unbuttoned against his gleaming chest, his already disheveled hair even more tangled than before. But what really catches your attention is how your slick glistens against his chin and lips, how his eyes are half-lidded and clouded with lust as he looks at you. He brings a hand up, curling around the back of your neck and pulling you down to capture your lips. You groan against his mouth as his tongue slips past your lips, licking over yours, the bittersweet taste of your cunt lingering on his lips.

“Could taste you for hours.” He mumbles against your lips, squeezing the back of your neck. His words make you blush and you pull away to look at him, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. You give him another kiss, peppering more down his neck.

“Think you have too many clothes on.” You mutter as Spike sits up and allows you to push his shirt from his shoulders.

“I think you’re right.” He agrees. Standing up from the bed, Spike shuffles out of his pants. He crawls over you on the bed, and you bring your hand down to stroke him. He kisses you, groaning into your mouth as you touch him. He pulls away, his eyes blown wide with lust as he stares down at you. “Look at you. Look at you.”

“Spike.” You say his name, pulling your hand away from his cock. You hold his head in both hands, his eyes staring into yours as he waits for you to speak. “I’ve wanted this for a really, really long time.”

He kisses you. “Me too.”

“Yeah?” You question because you want to hear him say it.

“‘Course.” He breathes, placing a tender kiss to your cheek. He drags his lips against your jaw. “Course I have. Always.”

“But–” You know you shouldn’t bring her up, but you hate how she remains an ever-present thought in your mind, even as he’s here with you instead of her. Spike doesn’t let you finish, anyways, capturing your lips in a slow, longing kiss.

“Just you.” He murmurs against your lips. He brings a hand down between the two of you, fisting his cock in his hand and running the head through the glistening folds of your cunt. “Only you.”

You gasp at the feeling of him grinding against you, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck. You bury your face against his neck and moan. “Fuck!”

“Baby. My baby.” He coos as he kisses down your neck, placing wet kisses there and tasting the salt of your sweat against your skin. He leans down, capturing one of your pebbled nipples between his lips. You arch your back at the sensation, and he gropes your other breast in his hand, rolling your bud between two fingers. You whine as he continues to kiss over your breasts, moving your hips to try and soothe the ache between your legs.

“Spike!” You cry, running your hands through his hair. “Spike, please!”

He pulls away from your chest, reaching his hand down between your bodies, drawing slow circles around your clit. “Please what, baby?”

“Please, uh–” You moan as he slips a finger into your entrance. “Fuck me! Please, fuck me, Spike!”

“Aw,” He coos, fucking his middle finger in and out of you. “It’s not enough? Need more?”

“More!” You cry, bucking your hips against his hand. He chuckles as he looks down at you, moving his hand from between your legs to hold himself up over you. “Please!”

“Love it when you beg for me.” He mutters before kissing you, pushing the head of his cock through your opening. You whine at the stretch, still so tight even after what he’s done to prepare you. You arch your back against the mattress, Spike pushing his way inside as your heels dig into his lower back.

“Feels–mmm–feels so good!” You whine. Spike pants against your ear, pulling his hips back and slamming back inside of you. The both of you cry out, Spike thrusting his hips against your own.

“Look at you.” Spike breathes, still moving in and out of you. “So beautiful. So fucking perfect, and you’re all mine.”

And he’s right. You’re his. You’ve always been his, even if you can’t call him yours.

“Please!” You beg, though you aren't sure what for. “Please, please, please!”

You meet his thrusts with your hips, nails scratching down his back as he grinds into you. You move your hands from his back, up his chest and towards his neck. He looks into your eyes as you run your fingers over the marks you left, moaning with you as he fucks you. You press your thumbs into the marks on either side of his neck, and he groans.

“Fuck!” He cries, quickening his thrusts and chasing his high. “You’re so–fuck–such a goddamn sadist.”

He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he slows his hips. He fucks you deep and slow, hitting the spot inside of you that makes you moan against him. Your orgasm washes over you without warning, causing you to cry out his name and throw your head back against the bed.

“Can you–” He grunts, feeling the way you clench around him. “Think you can give me another?”

“Can’t!” You cry as he continues to move in and out of you. The overstimulation is almost too much, but you keep him locked against you with your legs around his waist.

“C’mon. You can, baby. One more. One more for me.” He begs, bringing a hand between the two of you and pressing his fingers to your clit. “I’m so close.”

“Spike!” You whine, moving your hips with his as he draws tight circles around your clit. “I-I’m gonna–”

“Me too!” He groans, his movements becoming quicker and sloppier as he approaches his orgasm.

Your second orgasm hits just as hard as your first, and Spike’s follows soon after. Warmth fills your insides as he continues to thrust into your abused cunt. He pants against your neck, leaving kisses against your skin as he pulls out of you. He rolls over, lying on his back as the two of you catch your breath.

You move to stand, pulling his shirt over your body and tip-toeing to the bathroom. Once you’re done inside, you return to the bed, where Spike has pulled his boxers and pants back on, though still unbuttoned. He lays on the bed, cigarette hanging from his fingers as he watches you.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He questions, his eyes moving over the way you look in his button-down, which you haven’t bothered to button up. You giggle, crawling onto the bed. Spike holds an arm out for you, and you take your place against his chest, taking the cigarette from his hand and bringing it to your lips. You blow the smoke out against his face and smile.

He pets the top of your head with his hand as he looks down at you. “You tired?”

You nod against him, placing the cigarette in his hands and nuzzling his chest. He puts it out on the bedside table, and this time you don’t scold him.

Spike watches you close your eyes, waits for your breath to become steady, and he falls asleep.

…

Spike wakes up to the sound of humming.

He forces his eyes open, adjusting to the light in the room. He groans, running a hand over his face as he stretches his limbs out against the bed. He spots you sitting on the ledge of the window, blowing smoke from your cigarette through the opening. It’s still dark outside. Your face is illuminated only by the lights of Ganymede and the cherry of the cigarette. He thinks you’re beautiful.

He reaches over to the table, pulling his own cigarette from his crumpled pack and lighting it. He stands from the bed, spotting his shirt at the end of the bed and tugging it on, making his way to your side of the room. You turn your head to him and smile.

He leans down to kiss you before leaning against the other edge of the window. “Got tired of my shirt?”

“You’ll need it later.” You shrug, looking down at what you changed into. He chuckles.

“Yeah. Much later.” He says, running a hand up your bare calf where it rests on the ledge. “It’s not even morning.”

You look down at your lit cigarette, a sad smile spreading across your face. You brush him off with a shrug of your shoulder.

“Hey.” He calls. You look up at him, and he tilts his head to one side. “What’s going on?”

“You know we can’t–this won’t work.” You tell him, even though it kills you to, even though the words burn like an iron in your throat as you say them.

“What are you talking about?” Spike laughs, but you’re serious.

“This.” You say, motioning between the two of you. “Us.”

“Why not?” He asks, standing up straight.

“You’ll leave.” You say because you know he will. He always does.

“Then come with me.” His words make you jerk your head towards him in surprise. “Yeah. Come with me.”

“No.” You shake your head, tears stinging your eyes as you do.

“Why not?” Spike snaps, slamming his hand against the wall next to the window. Your eyes widen at his sudden anger.

“Because!” You cry. “You don’t want me! Not when you still love her!”

“I don’t love her.” He denies. “She left me.”

“You left me!” You argue. “You left me, and I still love you.”

“Hey.” He speaks, his voice soft as he steps closer to you. “Baby.”

“Don’t.” You whisper, looking out the window.

“Look at me.” He begs. “Please, look at me.”

You turn your head towards him, your eyes darting over his face.

“I–” He begins to speak, but you rush forward and cover his mouth with your hand.

“Shhh.” You hush him. “Look, I can’t–we can’t be together when you still love someone else.”

“I don’t–” He tries to speak again, but you interrupt him once more.

“You do.” You tell him. “And that’s okay, but there’s no chance we’ll make it while you do.”

“So what? That’s it? I just leave, again, and find you when I’m ‘ready’? No! Fuck that!” He argues.

“Yes!” You cry, pointing your cigarette in his direction. “That’s exactly what you do! You go and figure your shit out, and then come back for me.

“But you’re–you’re here, now. Right now. You–I had you.” His voice cracks as he stares at you.

“Spike, you always had me.” You tell him, standing up from the ledge and moving to stand in front of him. He leans forward, resting his forehead against yours and sighing.

“Okay. Fine. Fuckin’–” He sighs. He doesn’t want to accept it, leaving you again, but you’re right. There’s too much baggage, too many loose ends he still needs to tie up before he can give you what you deserve. He lets out a breath, shaking his head. You’re scared he’ll try to fight it, that you’ll have to reject him over and over, that he’ll wear you down enough to say yes and leave with him. But he doesn’t. “Fine.”

He cups your cheeks in his hands and leans forward to kiss you.

It’s a goodbye kiss, or a see you later kiss as you’ve dubbed it inside of your head, hope still swelling in your chest at the possibility that he’ll come back. Spike pours everything he has into it, every feeling he’s kept bottled up for years, everything he can’t say conveyed in one kiss.

When he pulls away, you reach a hand up and cover his left eye with your palm.

“That’s my fake eye.” He tells you.

You nod. “I know.”

“It’s the one that sees the past.”

“Can you still see me?” You question. His lips pull into a smile.

“Sure can.” He brings his hand up to cover your own.

“You’ll come back?” You question, even though you know the answer. Spike pulls your hand from his eye and kisses the inside of your wrist, the action gentle, tender. You want to remember it forever.

“I always do.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, before throwing his jacket over his shoulder and disappearing through your door.

#spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel x y/n #spike spiegel x female reader #spike spiegel smut #ghost.writes #ghost.fic

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