mogiejojo

[mogiejojo]

~ late nights ~

warnings ; a little angsty, fluffy, smutty, situationship core, cuddling, shane being a little bit emotionally unstable, dry humping, biblically accurate shane

a/n ; i will not be writing again i forgot how much i hated going back and rereading and editing and making ts make sense and its rushed, xoxo 😭

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It was late. The last night you had with Shane before he was supposed to leave for his next tour, and you were dreading it.

Shane let his fingers thread through the ends of your hair as you curled up against him, head resting softly against his chest. His cheek pressed against the top of your head, lips almost touching the skin in your forehead. He didn’t make any move to press those plump, pouty lips firmer against your skin, just stayed there. Comfortable. Quiet.

Neither of you were honestly paying any attention to the movie Shane had put on the TV that hung, mounted from his bedroom wall. You were both more focused on memorizing every undertone of each other’s scents. It was unspoken, that you’d both miss the late nights you commonly shared together. But neither of you had the courage to verbally admit to longing that deeply for each other— in fear of messing up what you both had created in silence.

“Mmm…”

Shane hummed quietly, almost inaudibly. A warning that he was about to stir beneath your weight, to move and get more comfortable. And then he did, sinking down lower so his head rested against his pillow instead of propped up against his headboard.

His arm stayed around you, making sure you weren’t about to move away from him. He kept you pressed firm against his chest, a hand even coming to cup the side of your head. That’s when you snapped— broke the silence.

“What are we?” You spoke, not really even realizing it had left your mouth until you felt Shane’s heartbeat increase beneath your ear, and heard his throat working to push saliva down nervously.

It wasn’t that he didn’t have good intentions with you. He did. And he wanted you to be his— so badly, he wanted you to be his. He just feared being vulnerable with you. He didn’t want to mess things up by sharing emotions, his thoughts— and fuck, did he have a lot of thoughts and emotions about a lot of things.

“What… What do you mean?” Shane spoke, gently, like his question was to bide time for him to think of an actual response rather than gaining clarification. He still didn’t move, didn’t turn his head. But his fingers froze in your hair, so you knew your words had more of an effect on him than he was trying to let on.

“I mean— what are we..? We’ve been talking for… couple months now, I think. We have nights like these. I just… want to know where we stand.” You said, finally pulling away from his chest and sitting up. You stared down at him, eyes tired. You both had been fighting sleep to spend as much time together as possible.

Shane almost choked. He didn’t honestly know how to respond in a way that wouldn’t drive you away. He turned his head now, gazing up at you. The sight of you looking down at him the way you were, with your eyes droopy, made him realize just how bad he wanted to continue having these late nights with you.

“What do you want us to be?” He questioned softly, keeping his eyes on yours, though his body begged him to lower his eyes to where your shirt dipped towards your cleavage. Now was not the time for that.

“Well, I… I feel like maybe, if you.. if you wanted, we could be.. more, you know? I mean— because I’m ready, I just… want to know your thoughts on… maybe.. being more than just friends.”

You spoke quietly, stuttering over your words as they flew from your mouth, like you were embarrassed to admit that you were ready to be his, to make him yours.

“I’d… I’d like that. Yeah.”

You smiled gently at his response, one hand resting against his chest.

His eyes flickered down to your lips, wanting nothing more than for you to lean down and close the distance between you two. Hesitantly, he reached up, his palm grazing your cheek as his fingers danced against your hairline, brushing some of your hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear, so the glow from the TV would illuminate more of your features— the same features that he couldn’t ever seem wipe from his mind.

You knew what he wanted the minute his lips parted gently. You wanted it too. But something made you hesitate.

“I mean like… I want you to be mine. Only mine, you know? And me to you.”

Shane felt his breathing pick up at your words, and he sat up to get his face closer to yours, forehead pressing against your own.

“I’m already yours. You have no idea..” He murmured gently, both of his hands now coming to frame your face. If only you knew the notebooks he had stashed under his bed were recently filled with nothing but lyrics about you.

With his words— that’s all you needed before you tilted your head ever so lightly, mirroring the way he moved, and before either of you could process it, your lips were pressed against his, mouths moving fluidly with each other.

His hands slowly dropped from your flushed cheeks, landing against your waist. He rocked back, careful not to separate from you. His hands pulled you with him, veins bulging prominently as he struggled with his own restraint.

His back landed against the headboard, and you adjusted your legs to straddle his hips, neither of you daring to pull away except to take quick gasps of air.

He let out a soft, whiny noise into your mouth when your hands found the hair at the base of his neck, tugging gently. It made your stomach flip, and you couldn’t help but to whimper back in response.

When you finally parted, he was looking at you, panting. His chest rose and fell quickly with his breaths, the same as yours.

No more words were shared between you two. None were needed. His lips found your jaw, his open mouth working lower until he reached the neck of your shirt. But his hands didn’t wander. They stayed planted firmly against your lower back, scrunching the fabric of your T-shirt, like it brought him physical pain to keep his composure around you.

When you tilted your head back for better access was when his trembling hands slid under the hem of the loose shirt you wore. They didn’t press, weren’t bold, but instead begged for permission to touch you as they hovered over your ribcage.

You put a little more weight down against his lap, hips stuttering a little as they rocked subtly against him. But he caught it, that little movement. His lips parted and he let out a breathy sigh, eyes closing as he felt the warmth radiating through your shorts.

“Can I touch you? Please?” Shane whispered, his eyes fluttering open again as he gazed up at you, already looking completely wrecked. You did unspeakable things to his body and mind.

You nodded, quickly, eagerly.

He was quick to raise his hands to cup your bra underneath your shirt, not squeezing or trying to take your bra off, but resting there, allowing himself to memorize the weight of your breasts in his palms. Without thinking, he lifted his hips slightly, his brows knitting together as his growing bulge rubbed just right against your thigh.

It gave you more confidence, rocking your hips a bit more boldly now— a little harder. A small whimper escaped your lips, but he was quick to lean towards you again and cover your parted lips with his. This time, though, his tongue darted out and flicked against your bottom lip, to which you welcomed immediately.

One of his hands dropped from your breasts, wrapping his long, pale arm around your waist as you continued to rock against him.

When a slightly louder moan was drawn from your lips, almost into his mouth— he lifted himself up to rub against you more directly. He was practically squirming beneath you. But you stopped. You put your hands on his chest, pulling away while taking deep breaths to ground yourself.

Shane looked up at you in concern, frightened he might’ve done something wrong.

“Are you okay? What’s the matter?” He said, his hands immediately moving from their intimate places to cup your face again, his priority ensuring you were comfortable and okay with what was happening.

“I don’t… I want to do this right, I really don’t want to rush things. I’m sorry.” You spoke gently, anxiety churning in your stomach now.

“Hey, hey. It’s alright. That’s okay… Shit, come here.” Shane spoke, his tone calm. He wasn’t upset. He understood. Hell, if he wasn’t so wrapped up in claiming you immediately, he would’ve probably done the same thing— but you made him weak. You were dangerous to his self-control.

He shifted so he was laying back down, gently tugging you into his arms so you were laying back down in the same exact position you guys had started in.

“I don’t want you to leave tomorrow.” You murmured, quietly against his chest.

He hummed and pressed his lips against your forehead before speaking.

“I know. I don’t… know what I’ll do without you spending the night and watching movies with me almost every night.” He teased, but his words were truly a lot deeper than that. He was excited for his tour, but he knew being away from you was the hardest part. “Close your eyes, Y/N. I’ll be here when you wake up.”