reblogs of the current hyperfixation

The fronts :

The backs :

As steam flows out from the spout in a wispy dance into the air, your kettle lets out a whistle as the water inside reaches a boil. Tugging your blanket and readjusting it around yourself, you shuffle your fluffy soft covered feet over one of your kitchen cupboards. Stretching up on your toes you pull out your favourite mug, when a familiar sounds of knuckles rapping against your window startles you. Letting out a sigh of relief that you weren't holding the kettle, you hurry out of the kitchen to your living room window. 

A familiar pair of golden, glowing eyes crease with joy and contentment at the sight of you. Grabbing the silver handle you pull open the window, face scrunching up momentarily as cold air hits your skin and awakens goosebumps along your arms. 

"Hey gorgeous." Strife greets, thrusting his upper body into the room. Raindrops drip down from the top of his head and down onto your carpet, dampening the fabric slightly. Despite the fuss you had previously made to not only Strife but his siblings about please remembering to wipe their shoes and (if needed) shake of before entering your home, the mini wet patch is currently the least of your concerns. 

"Strife!" You gasp, stepping back to allow him entrance to your living room. 

"Come inside, you're soaked…here," You pause, shrugging off your blanket and placing a hand on Strife forearm. On command, he bends closer to your height and you slip the soft fabric around his shoulders "let me get you warm."

Something ignites inside the horseman's chest. His hands move without him thinking about it, grasping the soft flesh of your hips and pulling you closer to him. 

"Hey, I appreciate the care, but not even a hello first?" He grins beneath his mask, thumbs pressing eagerly into the plush flesh of your hips and rubbing soft little circles.

"Hello, Strife." You laugh softly, grazing your fingertips through his slightly flattened hair, then settling your hand on his forehead and stroking gently with your thumb. You had missed seeing his face. 

Like a moth to a flame, he pushes his forehead into your palm. He's been apart from you off world with his brothers for a few weeks now, longing for and missing you every night. Even with humanity resurrected and a new balance restored, there will always be something needing the attention of The Four. Fury's recent business had been tending to humanity's aid, so at least he had been able to enlist her to check up on you. It's not like you to ever turn down some girl time with her. Alas, he knows that War and Death will be wanting to come see you again soon too, hence why he's hurried to get be the first and enjoy some… alone time. 

Suddenly remembering the cold barrier of his helm between his face and your fingertips, he reaches up a hand to slide it off, discarding it on the floor. Letting out a blissful little sigh that does not at all befit his size, Strife allows his eyes to shut and savour the feeling of your skin against his. If you've missed him as much as he's missed you, then hopefully he'll get to feel more than your palm against his forehead.

"You must be so cold!" You gasp, still trying to recover yourself from the very brief gust of cold you had just been hit with. Stepping behind the Horseman and grabbing the handle once more, you yank the window tightly shut. 

"Where are you going?" He pouts, already missing your touch. 

"I am trying to save you from catching a cold!" You explain, gasping when the ground suddenly disappears beneath your feet. Said gasp is quickly replaced with your laughter, however, the sound ringing delightfully in Strife's ears. Protesting weakly with flailing legs as he begins carrying you towards the bedroom, the tea you were intending to enjoy comes back to mind. 

"Oh, wait! I was making tea before you got here-!" 

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he plants you down comfortably on top of his thighs and holds you in place. "You can make a new cup when I'm done with you. come on, I've missed you." He whines, murmuring the last part, planting kisses on your neck that pepper your flesh.

"-But I want to run you a bath. To help you warm up-ah! Stop that!" You smack a hand against his arm. 

Rolling his eyes, he removes his hand from your chest and instead presses his face down in between your shoulder and neck.

"You humans. You don't like the outside wet but you do like the inside kind. And getting outside wet means you need to get inside wet."

"One wet is warm and refreshing and the other is cold and for plants!" You explain despite knowing very well that he does in fact understand between rain water and shower or bath water.

"Neither of them are my favourite kind of wet." He smirks at you, massaging your inner thigh. 

Huffing at his tease, you take the chance to escape his loosened, relaxed arms and bolt to the bathroom. Shooting up to chase after you with a shouted, 'Hey!', you let out a squeal as you narrowly avoid being snatched back into his needy embrace. Pushing the bathroom door shut with your back, you snatch the plug and press it down to cover the drain. Twirling the hot and cold taps, water begins to steadily flow down into the glistening white basin. 

Blanket left draped on the end of your bed, a knock of knuckles on the door soon interrupts the sound of flowing water from the taps. Smiling in amusement, you turn to reopen the door. 

"Okay, big guy. Armour off." 

Before he can make a comment about you being the needy one, you press a finger to his lips, silencing his tongue. "Tub." you state firmly, pointing at the water with your opposite hand. Lifting up his arm, you duck beneath and step out the bathroom. 

"where are you going?" He asks, a slight panic in his tone at the sight of you leaving his sight again.

"To get an extra towel or two." You respond simply, offering a little smile of reassurance. 

"Extra?" 

"Well, you're big, and I'll need one." You shrug, as if what you're implying is obvious to him.

Oh…OH! You're going to join him…

Now with a new found excitement and enthusiasm for getting in the tub, Strife wastes no time peeling off each piece of armour that protects his flesh. For safety sake and a need to keep his own nerves in check, he takes a moment to delicately place redemption and mercy down on the side of the bathtub. 

Returning a few moments later, your horseman stands before you, naked as the day of his creation, yet still not in the tub. Predictably, he had be sure nothing happened to you in his absence. Even in the comfort of your own home, a mere short hallway away from him, he still had to be prepared to defend your life with his. Even if he need ever do so butt naked. 

Losing your words momentarily, a soft little gasp passes your lips. Casting your glance downwards to your feet, you internally curse at your body as you feel your cheeks grow pink. 

"You're so beautiful when you look all shy." He sighs longingly, cupping your cheek and tenderly rubbing his thumb there. 

"Shut up." You scoff, hugging the towels to your body. Despite your denial, you couldn't exactly hide the fact that a burst of butterflies had erupted within your tummy. 

"I've waited long enough to see you, to feel you… no more delays." He whispers against your ear, pressing a delicate kiss to it's shell. Shuddering, you fumble to drop the towels down onto the closed toilet lid, eyes slipping shut as Strife's kisses pursue your down your throat and his hands slide beneath your shirt. 

With your clothes discarded on top of his armour, you manage to squeeze into your humble little bathtub with Strife, his arms wrapped tightly around you, lips sucking purple marks onto your shoulder and a hand between your thighs. Rain continues patter against the windows, being the only other sounds amongst your sighs and his grunts.

You were woken up by Strife's body shifting as he roused from sleep, his face buried in the nook of your neck. His right arm lays over your stomach, while the other is tucked somewhere under the pillows. You'd say his legs are tangled with yours, though given the size difference it's more like his are weighing yours down underneath the blankets.

He loves to hold you almost like some sort of stuffed animal. It's endearing, until you need to move anywhere.

"That's because the sun is rising, Strife."

The Nephilim lets out a groan as his face presses deeper into your neck, attempting to block out the morning sun. It's the crack of dawn, and you have no business being up this early. Nor do you want to be, as you close your eyes and attempt sink into the mattress and fall back asleep.

It seem Strife doesn't have any plans to let you do that however, as you feel him wiggle yet again. His warm breath fans over your skin as he attempts to fall back asleep same as you. His weight that pushes the limit of the bed frame's max limit makes it shift enough to jostle you, and wrench a groan from you.

To think he'd go from being so hesitant to get close his eyes around you to this. It's been interesting, seeing him finally let his guard down.

He loves the 'cool guy' facade, the rootin' tootin' gunslingin' Nephilim, but in reality his walls are nearly has high as Death's. He's just better at not showing them to anyone.

But now he has the security, that you aren't going anywhere and that nothing bad is going to happen. That he finally has you with him. And because of it, the Nephilim conks out like a light the moment he decides to sleep next to you.

Not this time however; As he moves his leg that dangles part way off the bed around and wakes up once again from the in-between space between awake and asleep. You weakly smack his arm.

"Strife, quit moving."

He finally raises his head and looks at you, glaring with his messy, sleepy face. You can't help but compare him to a beloved pet that you wake up from the middle of a deep sleep, frazzled and face scrunched. You can just barely make out a pile of armor and weaponry in the corner of the room behind him, where he'd dumped it the night before.

"Then fix the light issue, Princess." You look up at him, barely able to make out his shapes through the blur of sleep. You fill your cheeks with air to blow a raspberry at him, but he just uses his hand to force the air out with a pinch of your cheeks. It frustrates you, which is always his goal.

"I can't make the sun just go a-"

Suddenly Strife grabs a handful of the blanket and pulls it overtop of both of your heads, covering you completely. And now back in near total darkness apart from the tiniest bit of light bleeding from the top most part of the blanket, Strife resumes his trapping of your body in his limbs, his nose pressing against your cheek. You feel his lips against your skin as he talks.

"There, solved."

It's so warm underneath the blanket, despite the frigid cold weather outside.

But it's not as if you have anywhere you need to go anytime soon. And if you do, it clearly wasn't important enough for you to remember. After terrible your week has been as of yet, you'll gladly forget about all of that for awhile.