#at least Ein is a corgi... short dog

[koropukgoro]

Jet put Ein on Spike duty

[manias-wordcount]

May I request a Spike x Reader, where the reader has to hug something or someone to be able to fall asleep?

A Ghost's Gosepl (Spike Spiegel x Reader)

𝘼𝗔/𝗡: 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 !!!!!!!! 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗮𝗱. 𝗼𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝗲𝘀

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗯 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @dogsandrocketsocks @pittbull-enthusiast

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

He can’t sleep, but for once, it’s not because of the ghosts that haunt him. The ghosts that exist over his shoulders and in his past. It’s not the faces of the dead that he’s damned to hell. Nor is it the faces of the living he’ll never be able to outrun so long as he’s alive. No, something far scarier keeps him up tonight, unable to rest a weary head. It’s the fear that this- this moment right here- might become a ghost too.

It started off small. He dropped you off in your room after you had a fight with Ein. If you could even call the hour-long session where you pouted into Spike’s chest and refused to pet the dog a fight. Still, you never fight with Ein. Never. But this time, that damn mutt ruined something of yours. Torn to pieces, making you cry. Sure, Ed and Faye did their best to try to cheer you up while Jet tried to see what he could do, though it didn’t change the fact that the little keepsake you kept hidden in your was now scattered across the floor in pieces. And while Spike hates children, pets, and women with an attitude, he hates seeing you cry even more.

That’s why it was so natural to stick around after guiding you to your room. The tears in your eyes have long since dried, but you clung to him with soft sniffles and a tight grip. It took him a long time to convince you to change your clothes into something you can sleep in. Now, he didn’t mind doting on you. Really, he didn’t. But then you turn to him. Dressed in nothing but a pair of gray cotton shorts and one of Spike’s old t-shirts he let you borrow a long, long time ago. Who knew that one teensy tiny little question would have led him into this…

“Stay with me tonight? Please?”

…this mess.

But there he was. Crawling into bed with you per request and then laying still like a corpse as you made yourself comfortable. You tucked yourself into his bare side, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have just bit the bullet and slept with a shirt on for your sake. But then you grabbed his arm. Holding it close to your chest as the lights went out. You squeezed your eyes shut, pulling him tighter against you. Half-buried under the covers as if you were scared to move until he finally had enough and moved the sheets over your head and just under his chin. You thanked him. Softly. Sweetly. And there was nothing for him to say. Nothing he was strong enough to say at least.

It’s then, that he takes the moment to remind himself for the one-thousandth that there’s something perfect about you.

Something perfect as you close your eyes and doze off. Only half-asleep but he’s losing you quickly. Your breathing steadies, and your grip loosens ever so slightly. You’re giving up quickly, and Spike likes to think it’s because you have him right beside you. Here to protect you. Here to comfort you. Hold you. In the moments your biggest enemy is a corgi with too much time on his hands. In the moments your biggest enemy is a man with a gun and a hatred for pretty little things like you. He’ll be there for you. There for all your tears. Your frowns. Your pouts.

He’d do anything for it.

But for now, he’ll watch you. As the hours crawl by and the minutes leap forward, he’ll watch you. Watch over you. Letting you shift around however you want, but never let you stray too far. You told him you needed him tonight. You needed something to hold. Something to take care of for those moments while you rest your weary head. And he agreed. He’d let you hold onto a part of him for tonight. If only he could do the same for you. If only he could do the same for you.

For the current moment, he’ll let you settle on your side while he’s spooning you from behind. One arm is thrown over your waist and one tucked under your head. It’s the one you hold onto- the one he has to force himself to ignore the numbing feeling running its course through him. But it’s okay. It’s perfectly fine. It’s perfect, actually. Just because it’s you.

Gazing down at your slow blinks and soft breaths while you’re tucked into his side in a flimsy set of pajamas that leave nothing to the imagination is hard sometimes. Sometimes you’ll move. You’re pressing into his body a little more. You’ll release a small noise. You’ll remind him that you’re real. Just so you can bury yourself further into him and just exist without a thought in the world.

Before, he felt so rigid. Like the moment you asked him to stay the night was a lie. Untrue. From the first second he met you, he felt that pull. The chaos surrounding that job in Europa all that time ago did nothing but amplify the thrill of the initial attraction that sparks from the beginning. That desire to keep you close. Within sight at all times. But he thought you’d be easy. He thought all he needed was a night in between the sheets to get you out of his head. Now it’s months and months later, and he finds himself sleeping with you. Sleeping right beside you.

And wondering what it would be like to sleep beside you in a real bed. Not some cot on the Bebop, but a house. With a yard. And a family. And a better life. Away from bounties. Away from guns. From dangers and the thrills. From death and fear. A real life. A perfect one.

Away from all the ghosts.

Tempting, tempting, tempting. That’s what you are to him. Tempting, tempting, tempting. But he’s not chasing after the chance to toss aside your little cotton shorts and your big t-shirt. He’s just reveling in the way you’re so close. So soft. So sweet. And somehow you’re all his. All his for tonight. It’s pitiful how fast he crumbles.

You don’t need that type of power in your head. If only you knew what a soft smile in his direction could do to his heart. If only you knew what your laughter does to his head. What your presence does to him. But for now, you don’t. And if he can help it, you never will. He’s kept secrets from you before. He’s killed, and he’s killed, and he’s killed without a single drop of remorse in his body, but you’ll never know. You’ll just continue to hold him like you do now. Need him. Want him. Rely on him. Have him.

All so this moment doesn’t become a ghost too.

[greeds]

cant believe they cast a husky to play ein.... couldnt they have at least picked another short compact dog for the role if not a corgi...