#corvus fluff

ʚ♡ɞฺ　　main m.list　ྀིᨯ — content. character is downbad for YOU, i go kind of in detail when reader beats trash beasts up, reader highkey body tea / body is built cuz of the way they train & what they do everyday LOL. jabber is a bit suggestive but eh, its jabber

m note: maybe i'll make longer versions of these separately soon

m word count: like 100-200+ each

m character included: enjin, zanka, tamsy, jabber, corvus, zodyl

enjin freezes up before smirking and keeps up with the pace you go at while beating down a few trash beasts right by your side. before starting the mission, he bet with you on who could kill more, but after seeing you? well...

"shit, seems like i... i lost." "well, you owe me dinner now, don't you?" a small smile appeared on your lips before giving his arm a pinch while walking off, going back to join riyo and the others.

kind of just leaves him speechless the whole night. thinking about how... attracted he was to you when you would stab a monster into its throat; wiping off the smelly musk of whatever you could call the trash beast's blood from your mask,

god even when you muttered how disgusting it was under your breath, why were you suddenly so hot?! (you've always been)

zanka's reaction is similar—i mean, hello, like father like son. his figure is just frozen on the field when he sees you take care of the bugs that had been pestering this poor elderly couple when they're just trying to grow a garden in quite literally the middle of nowhere.

so when you pick your weapon up and out of the monster's head that had deliberately covered the upper half of your vital instrument in smelly... can you even call that bodily liquids if its a trash beast?

he just feels his face fluster underneath his mask when you scoff at the corpse, "could've at least made it an easier job for cleaning. come on, zanka, let's go." "yes! yes. i- err, let's go!" suddenly straightens his posture and walks proudly as if you hadn't just gotten him a little hot and bothered from just telling a garbage beast to fuck off.

"...zanka, wrong way." "ah..."

tamsy's eyes widen in minimal surprise when he sees the way you utilize his own vital instrument, using your own to strike through every beast he had tied securely; watching their bodies become corpses one by one as they fell, the clothing around your arms were briefly scratched off,

yet the only thing you were concerned about was... "tamsy! come on, let's get out of here!" you already slipped your arm around his arms and legs, and rushed back to the vehicle you took to get there. the wasteland looked disgustingly teal as per usual, but now an unusual shade of red would cover tamsy's face.

you sat beside him in the car, silently closing your eyes as you rested, and as soon as he could see you weren't looking? he took more than a few glances at your figure, more specifically your arms. whether or not you work out, the work you do with him was more than enough to have you unintentionally flexing apparently.

and he was ALLLL for it.

jabber likes to think you're calling him a pest while you slice neatly through three beasts at once. has begged you once for a duel just to see you point your vital instrument at him and call him a dirty bug too but... well you being you; declining is the most sane option here.

"disgusting." your glare remains ice cold as you took your weapon back out of the monster, only uncovering half of your face to check out what the garbage had dropped, jabber was clearly enjoying himself in the background.

"god, are you sure you don't wanna... haah, take out your anger like that on me instead? we wouldn't have to go out all the ti-" "for the last time, no."

corvus trusts you with the fight, and watches. not just because he trusts you though, semiu knows the little glances he gives you, especially as of recent while your jacket is still being repaired by august. your arms hadn't looked as good as they did before... or maybe he just never noticed?

you had swung your vital instrument around you to take out multiple enemies at once, corvus having stuck right to the side, simply observing when all of a sudden... a creature jumps up from behind, yet he doesn't even flinch when you end up so close to him to cut it smoothly in half. a brief quirk in his brow,

his figure only moves to match your speed, never taking his eyes off you once. "you make quick work of them don't you?' expecting a cheeky reply, he watches you brush dust off your shoulder before checking on him. "you good, boss?"

"...never better. let's keep going, yeah?" you won't truly disregard the way he had slipped an arm around your waist to pull the both of you forward.

zodyl is similar, watching you fearlessly, and swiftly protect him without him having to lift a finger, he trusted you a lot. but his trust didn't necessarily mean finding you attractive, so why did his face wince when he saw the way your gaze stay sharp, easily hitting any enemy that tried to come near.

you hadn't even realized how his eyes stayed on you the whole time, not to mention the way you've developed your figure to fight with more agility... his eyes only dip down to watch your back flex when your vital instrument would uppercut a trash beast.

when it was all over, he quickly looks away, wanting to avoid you seeing him gawk over you. "...sir are you alr-" "let's not get distracted." quickly moving past you, you just give a confused stare before following behind. what's got him all hot and bothered?

Whoever (m) x Blackfem!Reader

°~887 words, fluff, short excerpt from a longer story, hangout day (nails, food, shopping, smoke sesh), suggestive talk, etc°

༻18+ 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓓𝓸 𝓝𝓸𝓽 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽༺

The smell of monomer and hibiscus tea filled the air as you sat side-by-side in the plush pedicure chairs. Your hands were resting on the manicure stations, and for the first time, your sets were perfectly coordinated. You had chosen a stunning, mid-length acrylic in a deep, midnight blue, accented with shimmering glitter lines that caught the overhead LED lights like constellations. Beside you, his large hands were resting on the towel, his nails freshly manicured and painted that same, flat midnight blue—no glitter, just the plain, bold color.​

He looked incredible. Even in the clinical lighting of the salon, he was so attractive. You found yourself staring, taking in the way his features seemed to spill over with a kind of effortless perfection—the crispness of his fresh fade, the sharp, dark line of his beard, and the way the blue polish made the smooth, brown tone of his skin look even deeper, even more radiant.​

He was leaning back, one hand occupied by the technician and the other scrolling through an article on his phone. He was so secure in himself, so grounded in his masculinity, that he didn't even blink at the curious glances from other patrons. He was a real man—the kind who didn't need to perform toughness because he simply was tough. He was smart, always reading or learning something new, and he communicated with a clarity that made you feel safe. He was kind to the staff, cracking a small, respectful joke that had your nail tech giggling, and his consideration for you was a constant, steady thing in the background of your life.​

You loved him so much it felt like a physical weight in your chest.​

​After the salon, he took you to that bistro you loved. The afternoon was bright, and the anticipation was already starting to coil in your stomach. You watched him across the table as he ate, his dark blue nails a constant visual reminder that he was yours and would do whatever you wanted. He kept you laughing the entire time, telling a story about a work mishap with such a witty delivery that you nearly choked on your drink.​

11:39

a/n: WHY ARE YOU SCREAMING AT ME DAMN HERE OKAY- but also feel free to request more (within my rules) cause my inbox is dry as shit.

The cleaner HQ was quiet except for the hum of the trash beasts far outside, the faint static of rain against glass. You sat curled up on his couch, knees to your chest, the faint scent of whatever still clinging to the air. Corvus stood by the window, sleeves rolled to his elbows, light catching on the ink that wound the back of his head— the same tattoo that always seemed to move when he did, alive in a way that words couldn’t explain.

He hadn’t said much since you got here. He never did unless he was in a mood. But the sweet silence was his language, and you’d learned to read it — the slow rhythm of his breath, the way his eyes softened when they met yours.

“You should get some rest,” he said at last, voice low, smooth. The kind that carried more weight than volume.

You shook your head. “You’re not sleeping either.”

A faint exhale — almost a laugh, though it never quite reached his lips. He turned, leaning his shoulder against the frame, gaze steady on you. “I don’t need much.”

You wanted to ask what does he need — what keeps him awake, what thoughts dig their claws into his quiet — but the words stayed tangled in your throat.

Instead, you muttered, “You always say that.”

He crossed the room, slow enough for you to feel every inch of the distance shrinking. His hand brushed the back of the couch, fingers trailing near your shoulder but never touching. "Yet you’re still here,” he murmured, more to himself than you.

The rain softened to a drizzle. Somewhere, a siren wailed far away, swallowed by the hum of the city.

“You don’t have to say anything,” you said, voice small- not because you intended to whisper, but because it got stuck as you spoke.

Corvus’ jaw tightened. For a moment, his mask slipped — the faintest flicker of exhaustion, of something heavy and human beneath all that control. Probably the whole ordeal with Rudo and the watchman series and all that bullshit. Then he exhaled, kneeling so his eyes were level with yours.

"I don’t want to give you anything I can’t keep.”

Your breath caught. His gaze flicked between your eyes and your mouth, but he didn’t move closer.

“You’re not giving me anything,” you mumble back. “You’re just… here. Here with a buncha paperwork ya gotta give Semiu at some point. Honestly, Corvus, it gets to a point-”

Whoever (m) x Blackfem!Reader

Your son, Namere, had a strict policy when it came to your attention: it belonged to him, and him alone. In his ultimate defense of your affections, he struck—effectively breaking the romantic tension with the sheer force of toddler jealousy.

๑໑545 words, fluff, father/son moment, biting a nose (nobody is harmed), etc๑໑

Your husband was finally off the floor, showered and dressed in a comfortable Henley, having successfully navigated the messy phase of Namere’s playtime. He was now perched on the arm of the sofa, watching Namere push his cars off the coffee table and onto the rug. ​

You were curled up in the corner of the sofa, scrolling through your phone, a faint, contented hum vibrating under your skin from the memory of the night before. ​He leaned over, quiet and quick, nudging your phone out of the way with his nose. He pressed a long, soft kiss to your temple, lingering there, claiming a quiet moment of affection. ​

“Mmm,” you sighed, leaning into the warmth of it. ​Instantly, a small, demanding presence materialized between you.

Namere, alerted by the sudden lack of attention and the clear evidence of shared affection, dropped his bright red fire truck and plastic civilian. He scrambled onto the sofa, squeezing his sturdy little body between you and your husband.

“No!” Namere announced firmly, throwing his arms up and wrapping them around your face. He buried his cheek against your jaw, effectively cutting him off. “My mama!”

You both burst out laughing—a soft, conspiratorial sound. ​“Oh, is that right, little man?” he teased, reaching out and gently hooking a finger around Namere’s collar. “Your mama? I think she belongs to me. I was here first.”

Namere just squeezed your face tighter, his breath hot and determined against your ear. “No! Mine!” ​

His dad, fully amused, lowered his head and blew a soft, playful raspberry right onto the exposed skin of Namere's neck. ​Namere let out a high-pitched, surprised giggle, wriggling to get away, but he held him gently in place, pressing another soft, teasing kiss to the top of the boy’s head.

“You gotta share, buddy,” he insisted, his voice warm with laughter. “She’s my sweetie, too.” ​

Namere squinted at him, his face screwed up in concentration, clearly not liking the competition. He paused for a beat, processing the injustice of the situation. ​Then, quick as a viper, Namere lunged forward and clamped his small teeth gently but firmly right onto his nose.

He gasped—not from pain, but from sheer surprise—and pulled back instantly. “Ow! Hey, little monster!” ​

You were laughing so hard you had tears in your eyes, covering your mouth with your hand. ​Namere, successful in his territorial defense, immediately nestled back into your neck, sticking his tongue out at his dad.

He rubbed his nose, grinning despite the minor attack. He shook his head, leaning back on the armrest, his eyes shining with affection. ​“You are absolutely shameless,” he told Namere, then looked at you, a slow, knowing smirk curving his lips.

“Guess the little man knows where he gets it from.” ​You nudged him playfully with your elbow, pulling Namere tight against your chest. “Don’t look at me. I was just minding my business.”

He just sighed happily, resting his hand heavy on your thigh—a claim more effective than any toddler bite. “Mhm. We both know that’s a lie, sweetheart.”

Dividers by @uzmacchiato