hey everyone it's been 15 years since twilight. taylor lautner is married to taylor lautner. robert pattinson is a fucking bird. and kristen stewart is doing the dykiest photoshoot imaginable for a rolling stone magazine cover.
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— “‘samu, stop,” you whisper, as he finds you at the opposite corner of the bed yet again. “it’s so hot.” the fan drones on, making little creaks as it oscillates. it does nothing to quell the heat. if anything, it just cycles the hot air around you, making the bedroom akin to a rotary oven.
what also doesn’t help is the six-foot human space heater in your bed.
osamu groans, his arm coming around your waist to pull you against his bare chest. “stop kickin’ me,” he mumbles. “i wanna hold ya.” he nuzzles his face in your neck, kissing it.
it would be sweet, if his body heat wasn’t the same as an elephant’s. he’s sweltering, and your shoulder sticks to his chest as you try to move away. osamu practically whines as you do. “stop leavin’ meeeee.”
a blast of heat envelopes you as he tries to pull you close again, and you let out a huff. “m’not leaving you, ‘samu, i told you, it’s boiling in here,” you tell him, hitching a leg over his hip to get some air. “s’not my fault,” he mutters petulantly, his big, hot hand reaching over to rest on your leg.
this boy…!
you give another huff. not even thirty seconds later, there’s a low snore that rumbles behind you. “how are you even asleep?” you whisper incredulously, turning to see his peaceful expression. “m’holdin’ ya,” he mumbles sleepily in reply. he inhales deeply, breathing you in. “i love ya.”
guess you can’t be mad about that.
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