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manias-wordcount · 3 months

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Hey, I don't know if requests are open, if they aren't please ignore this.

Concept for Spike Spiegel. Reader takes a hit that was meant for him and almost dies. In their final moments before they pass out, they confess their feelings. And when they wake up, covered head to toe in bandages and now in a nice comfy bed with Spike sitting not to far from them, "Being honest here, I had no intention of living to face the consequences of my actions."

Consequence (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗶 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗵!

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

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The last thing you remember is an explosion of pain and your vision turning white.

Now, you feel as though that pain is still there. Dulled, but still ever-present. And your eyesight isn’t quite filled with a blinding white. Instead, the light you see now feels a bit more far away. But a bit more natural all the same. You’re someplace different. You’re someplace that isn’t the floor of some gangster’s hideout, struggling to breathe. You’re someplace that feels warm and familiar and safe. You’re someplace-

You sit up with a start.

It’s far too much and far too fast for your body to handle so you’re instantly sent coughing and wheezing as that dull ache jumps out at your skin and beats on your heart. Your body groans, and your blood feels red-hot within your body. Still, you fight through the pain, and you look around desperately, trying to make sense of things. There are bandages wrapped around your hands and your arms. You can feel some sitting snuggly around your torso too. Beneath your body, there’s a soft cot. Softer than any bed you’ve slept on for a long, long time. You didn’t even notice it at first. But now that you’re awake and alert trying to make sense of things, the words “heaven” and “hell” pop up in your mind.

But you know it can’t be true. It just couldn’t be true. Because if this were heaven, then your body wouldn’t still be screaming out in pain every second of your existence. But if this were hell…

…then it would make no sense that the first thing you’d see is Spike Spiegel rushing over to you from the other side of his own bedroom.

“Shh…” He’s hushing you gently the second he arrives by your side. It’s uncharacteristic how soft he’s being- especially toward you in this moment. But your body hurts too much to dwell on that. There’s a cup of water in his hands, a couple of painkillers in the other hand, and in an instant, they’re being pushed to your lips as if you can’t be trusted to handle them on your own. But you aren’t seen complaining. Instead, you take them in greedily and decide with warm cheeks that wherever you wake up must be heaven. You have a funny feeling that definitely wouldn’t have Spike’s fingers brushing past your lips and sticking pills on your tongue. But maybe that’s just you. “You’re alright- you’re okay.”

Your coughing fit slows down just long enough for you to get some gulps of water in as Spike tilts the cup up to your lips. But all too soon, your chest starts to hurt again and you feel like you’re about to choke. You pull away at the same time Spike tugs the cup from your lips. A few droplets dribble down your chin and splash onto the bed. For the most part, you’re left unscathed. But all you really want to think about is just how much better you’ll feel when whatever Spike gave you kicks in.

That, and the feeling of his warm hand caressing your back gently, coaxing you into breathing like you did once more.

Eventually, the coughing and the choking slows down to only a few painful hiccups here and there. But the medication you were fed seems to be working. Because suddenly, it’s not as painful to exist anymore. At that point, Spike seems to take notice. So he starts slowly easing you to lay back down on his bed, despite your protest. But besides that, the room is so quiet. So empty yet so full. And your thoughts are starting to become louder now that the pain is disappearing. Which meant that you were starting to become capable of thinking about things a little bit more deeply. Like why you’re in this position. And you does your body hurt so much. And why are you in Spike’s room? And more importantly-

What the hell happened?

“Wh- where…” You try to ask, but your voice almost instantly gives out on you. It aches so much to speak. Almost like you had spoken for days. You make a motion to reach for the cup of water Spike had for you, but you don’t have to do much before he’s already bringing the cup back to your lips and helping you finish the last one-third of the cup. It takes a little while, but you do start to feel better as the water wets your throat. So as soon as you finish the cup, you open your mouth to try to talk to him again.“What-”

“You’re in my bedroom. You were out for a couple of days.” He was quick to cut you off this time. His voice was quiet, and his tone wasn’t the carefree sound you’re used to. The expression on his face wasn’t the warm and playful look you knew so well either. His lips were pulled together in a straight line, and his eyebrows were furrowed close together. It made you feel off, seeing him. You didn’t like seeing him this way. You especially didn’t like seeing him this way all because of you too. “An old friend of mine got ya’ close to heart, but the bullet was clean so we were able to save you.”

He sits down on the side of the bed, right next to you as you take in what he’s saying. You’re a bounty hunter- you’ve been shot at before. You’ve been nicked and grazed and hurt in all sorts of ways on the job. But nothing compared to the pain you remember feeling before waking up. And nothing compares to the weight of hearing those words he just said. Close to the heart- it meant that you almost died. Close to the heart- it meant that you really should have died. But you didn’t. They were able to save you. But if you were any less lucky, you wouldn’t be here right now. You just wouldn’t.

You shudder at the thought.

“Hey.”

You turn your head at him, as he calls out for your attention. All the sudden thoughts of death are starting to make you feel very, very small and the look Spike for is only adding to the fact. It makes you want to curl up in a little ball beneath his covers, but your body aches too much for you to even seriously consider that. So you’re stuck looking up at him from your position lying down. His eyes search your face. And your eyes search him too you both struggle for the right words to say and for the right words to think.

Luckily, it’s Spike who’s breaking the silence again.

“Don’t worry,” He murmurs at you, eyes downcast as he peers at you. One of his hands reaches out and runs his fingers through his hair before catching on his neck like a nervous tick. The other hand shifts ever so silently as it lays itself on the bed. You try not to think about how a finger or two from that hand of his had just brushed up against your bandage cover arm. “I took care of him for ya’.”

You nod your head, a mumble out a weak “thank you.” You know it’s only business. You know it’s only life. If someone shoots at you, you shoot at them back. If someone tries to kill your partner or your crew, it’s only fair that you turn around and kill them first. But something about the way Spike spoke- something about the way he called the man who shot you an old friend- says that this kill was a little more personal than just looking out for the people who sleep on the same ship as you every single night. It made you feel good. In a weird way.

After all, it was the other guy that was dead. You were the one lying on a bed. That old friend of his is in a body bag right now- not you. And if you look at things that way, you start to feel better. At least a little bit.

“Had to.” Spike continues as a response to your quiet thanks. At that, the corners of his lips start to tug upwards and the warmth in his eyes returns. Almost as if he knows something that you don’t. An inside joke that only he knows. Or at least, that is how it originally looked. “Just the kind of thing you do for the person you love.”

Until he reminded you of the exact words you said once you were shot and being cradled in his arms, bleeding out from your chest.

“Oh. my. God.” You force out, eyes blowing up wide as you look at the man before you. His smile only widens, like he’s amused at your embarrassment. But at the sight of his pearly white teeth, you’re retreating into yourself- feeling your blood run hot and your cheeks warm up rapidly, making you want to disappear into the sheets. But then a second later, you’re remembering that you’re not in your own bed. You’re in his. You’re in his room and you’re lying in his bed and you have a sneaking suspicion that this might even be his shirt that you’re dressed in. But that realization only serves to make you feel even more flustered and mortified than before. “I didn’t actually-”

“You did.” He told you, a gleam in his eyes. “You told me you loved me.”

“I’m sorry,” You’re apologizing, because the memories are flooding back to you in full force. A man named Vicious, the Red Dragon Syndicate, gunfire everywhere, the sight and stretch of your blood. You remember jumping in front of Spike and taking a shot you were sure would kill him. But you didn’t want to imagine a life without him. It’s the whole reason you followed him after all. So you took the bullet, and you crashed to the ground. You smiled while you told him you loved him. Laughed so hard it nearly killed you when you told him that you were happy it was you instead of him. Because he can be free now from that life he tried to leave behind. And now… “I’m sorry, I-”

He’s kissing you.

Swooped right in to shut you up. Swooped right in to hold you close. Because at the end of the day, you’re both free. A weight was lifted that day. The man who hunts him is dead. And the man you loved more than anything else in the world knows how you feel about him. And because of all those things- because of the shootout and the standoff and the cradling of your dying body to his chest- he’s free. You’re free. You’re both free from your own little burdens.

You are the consequences of each other’s actions. But consequences are to be dealt with later. Because right now?

There’s a whole lot of catching up for the two of you to do.

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

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reddragon-cowboy · 1 year

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honeysuckle kisses | spike spiegel x oc [ poc ]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

❝ Spike ? ❞ she uttered lightly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This is where patience comes to its end.

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

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

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

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

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

❝ Yea, but this one is even better . ❞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#I'm team: Spike wants and deserves a quiet life due to ptsd and trauma he experienced for the majority of his life. my boy is depressed.#spike spiegel x reader #spike cowboy bebop #spike spiegel #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop x reader #cowboy bebop fanfic #cowboy bebop fanfiction #spike spiegel x black reader #black reader #x black reader #anime #xreader #x reader #don't tempt the beast with promise of domestic life <> concrete rose #poc reader #anime x poc!reader #anime x black!reader

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