Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.

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254. Ed Sheeran 2

~24 hours. Sounds like a long time when you’re waiting for something, or someone. Like a baby to be born, or news about a loved one. When you’re about to leave on a holiday. But what about when you only have 24 hours? It’s not quite the same is it? You blink, and it’s gone.
24 hours was all we had. At least for now. I had to be back for college exams. Ed had flown me out the second he sensed I was missing him. I wish we had more. But he’d be back with me soon.
I watched from the wings of the stage as he finished up the set with ‘The A Team’. One of the venue crew had mentioned it was sold out, 13,000 capacity. Ed kept glancing at me, relying on his loop pedal a little too much for vocals. I shook my head at him, laughing. Ed shoved his guitar at the first person he saw when he came off stage, not even looking at them. He eyes hadn’t left mine since the moment he thanked the crowd. Once he’s free from his guitar, he picks me up, holding me up under my butt, my legs wrapped around his waist. This is where I belong. I giggle as he carries me towards his dressing room. I can hear people calling Ed’s name, but he’s doing his best to ignore them. He turns to face them, his hand on the door knob of his dressing room. He peers around my side. ‘Whatever it is, it can wait,” he says gruffly, his voice still strained after a couple of hours on stage. He sets me back on my feet, and pulls me through the door, slamming it closed. I can hear Stu outside, cussing. I look around at the chaos. There’s empty beer bottles, clothes and papers everywhere. I can see the neck of another guitar sticking out from the piles of cushions on the sofa in the corner. I don’t have a chance to say a word before Ed’s lips are on mine. It’s rough, fierce and hot. I tug on the sleeves of his tshirt, not really achieving anything other than expressing my desire for it to be gone. Ed’s hands are pulling me closer, and up and under my top, trailing up my stomach to my chest. He lets out a guttural growl when he realises I’m not wearing a bra. I’m no fool – I timed my flight perfectly for this time of night. He breaks our kiss only long enough to pick me back up. I take the opportunity to remove his shirt. He’s a heady mix of sweat, alcohol and cigarettes. I flick my tongue along his bottom lip and bite down gently as he leads me over towards the couch. It catches him by surprise, and he pushes me against the closest wall, a little rougher than I would have liked. Pain shoots through my hips but is quickly forgotten as I feel the dampness between my legs. ‘Ed’ I manage to get out, almost breathlessly. My hands are making light work of his belt, jeans and boxers. He kicks off his shoes and sets me down on the arm of the sofa. He throws the cushions across the room like a mad man. If I wasn’t so turned on right now, I’d probably laugh. I take the moment of clarity to remove the rest of my own clothes. Ed’s eyes just about pop out of his head when he looks back over at me. He doesn’t say a word, just points to me, and then the sofa. I walk over to him and sit down, crossing my legs. I’m already fucking him with my eyes. The guttural growl comes out again as he realises I’m teasing him. He grabs my right ankle and moves it to the side, and without warning, plunges himself into me. His hand is over my mouth before I have a chance to respond. ‘You.are.so.fucking.wet.and.tight.’ he manages between thrusts. My hands are fumbling, I want to reach out and grab onto him in any way I can, but I’m pinned down under his hand across my mouth. Bastard. I’ll show him. I bring my hands to my breasts, pushing them together and pulling on my nipples. He’s hitting the sweet spot now, and I bite down on the delicate skin of his palm, causing him to finally remove his hand. He spanks me. ‘Fuck, Edward!’ My hips are meeting his every thrust now, and I can feel my release building. ‘Wait, I’m not…’ he groans, biting down on his lip. My name spills out from his lips over and over and we reach our climax together. 23 hours to go.
I’m dressed in Ed’s jogging bottoms and a hoodie, sucking on a fag when Stu finally comes in. He looks at me, at Ed wrapped only in a towel, and the worsened state of the room and clears his throat. Clearly this makes him uncomfortable. ‘Make it quick man, we’re about to start on round 2,’ Ed teases, flicking on the Xbox. I throw one of the stray cushions at his head and walk towards to the door. ‘Actually, I’m going to go and get some fresh air while you two finish your shit. I’ll be back in 10.’ I say.
Ed is midway through a level on [insert Xbox game here] when I walk back into his dressing room. Stuart is nowhere to be seen. I wrap my arms around his neck from behind, and kiss his cheek. He chucks the controller at the TV when he loses. ‘That’ll teach you for starting without me’ I tease, sitting down next to him and grab the second controller. It’s the early hours of the morning when Ed finally admits defeat lets me win. 19 hours to go.
Ed needs to sleep, but I don’t feel tired at all. I spend the first hour watching his chest rise and fall, his eyes moving behind his eyelids, obviously lost in a dream. I’m still wide awake and buzzing, so I carefully move off the sofa-bed and pick up the guitar, making my way to the bathroom. I sit cross legged on the cold tiles, the guitar resting in my lap. I push the door closed with my free hand, as quietly as possible. I had almost played the entire + album, and some other random shit when I heard Ed calling out for me. ‘I’m in the bathroom babe!’ I called back. He opened the door a crack, and all I could see was one of his perfect blue eyes peering in. ‘Are you decent?’ I tugged the door open. ‘I don’t know, am I?’ I tease, sticking out my tongue. A grin spreads across Ed’s face, and I’m not sure if it’s because of my comment, or when he spots the guitar. He sits down next to me and pries the guitar from me. He plays my favourites, and a few new bits and pieces. Ed puts down the guitar when I yawn, and pulls me onto his lap. My head is resting against his chest, and the combination of his heart beat and warmth are lulling me to sleep. ‘C’mon darling, let’s go to bed, you’re wrecked’ he whispers to me, pulling my face up by my chin. That was all it took for me to be wide awake again – there was no way I was wasting a minute sleeping when all I had were a matter of hours. I moved so I was straddling him. ‘Better yet,’ I start, looking up at him from under my eyelashes, ‘how about we talk about my decency?’. Ed’s eyes lit up, and I stood up, pulling him with me towards to shower.
My hands are flat against the wall, as is my right cheek. I’m trying to catch a glimpse of him, but he’s trusting roughly from behind. My breath hitches in my throat, and combination of the heat from our activities and the now-cold water from the shower render me speechless. 15 hours to go
‘We really should be eating something other than chocolate cake,’ I laugh as Ed starts on his second piece. My finger swipes the icing off my slice as I watch his eyes close, savouring the taste of the chocolate-y goodness. His eyes still closed, I touch my finger tip to his nose. He opens his eyes, and I hide my icing covered fingers in my lap. ‘Uh, Ed, you got a little…here,’ I point to my own nose with my clean hand. Ed swipes the back of his wrist across his nose, the look on his face one of confusion then realisation. Without saying a word, in what feel s like slow motion, he smooshes his cake against my lips and over my face. It’s in my mouth, down my chin, and I can feel some hanging off my cheek. Stunned silence. I’m not sure if I should laugh or cry right now. I don’t think Ed knows either, because he doesn’t move, or say a word, he’s just staring at me. I was happy to let it go, until he starts laughing. I throw the rest of my cake at him, hitting him square in the chest. Oh boy. I scramble off the bed and run like mad for the bathroom, trying to close the door before Ed reaches me. But he’s too strong, and that’s a fight I’m not going to win.
I look up at him from my hands and knees, my mouth moulded perfectly around his manhood. His pupils are dilated, but they never once look away from mine. His hair is flat against his forehead, and the water is cascading down him shoulders from the shower. I’m the first to break our eye contact. No shower will ever be able to wash away the things we’ve done in here.
Sleep is a bitch of a thing. It never comes when I need it, only when I don’t want it. My ear is pressed into his chest, and once again his heartbeat is lulling me. Right now, I’m so grateful to be laying down – sitting on the plane trip back is going to hurt, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. Ed’s calloused fingertips are tracing imaginary lines up and down my arm. It feels like I just got here, and yet in 2 short hours I’ll be leaving for the airport. I’m trying to take in as much as I can about him. His smell, so uniquely Ed, his touch, his pale skin. I hate goodbyes, even if it’s only temporary.
 

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