Drunk Again: An Ed Sheeran One Shot (Mature)
It’s that time again, where I give you what you want. A mature Ed One Shot. And since i get AT LEAST 2 messages a day asking for one, y’all better enjoy this!
As usual, like this post if you enjoy it! or send me a message telling me what you thought.
And Ed, if you read this, I hope this goes over better than Twenty Two, with you. :D
Drunk Again: An Ed Sheeran One Shot (Mature)
“Last one” I announce as I put the glass of pale tan liquid to my mouth, tilting my head back, letting the alcohol burn my taste buds as it travels down my throat.
For some reason I had been under the impression that a drinking game to the show F.R.I.E.N.D.S would be a good idea in the presence of Ed. We were both free from any existing plans, promos, meetings, and shows, and the best way to spend any of my time with him was in the presence of alcohol. I was under the impression that he didn’t know nearly as much trivia as I did about the show, and that he would be much more drunk than me at the end of the episode. But we both found ourselves downing more shots of Irish whiskey with every passing mention of “we were on a break” and instance of Monica’s obsessive cleaning, leaving us both pretty buzzed. I set the shot glass down on the table in front of me, and turned to Ed, who picked the bottle up and refilled his own shot glass.
“You trying to get me liquored up?” I asked, as I set my shot glass on the table in front of me, standing up. I watched the room tilt, and invert itself sideways. I blinked a few times, trying to reorient myself as I held on to the arm of the couch, to keep me from falling off of the earth. I sit back down and pull my knees to my chest, resting my chin on my knees.
“Trying?” he laughs, downing another shot himself, grinning in amusement as he looks at me, “I think I’ve succeeded”
“I was supposed to drive home,” I groan in frustration, frowning at Ed, smacking his arm.
I had no intention of staying over at his house tonight. We had spent too many nights apart that one night was nowhere near long enough to make up for it, and we had agreed not to attempt to make up for these past few months in the late hours of the night. But as the images in my eyes blur, and the words floating off of my tongue slur, I realize that I’m in no shape to go anywhere but to bed; Specifically, the very inviting and familiar bed of Ed Sheeran.
He shakes his head, and chuckles before filling both of our shot glasses full of whiskey and handing one over to me. I realize there’s no use in denying the drink since I’m not going anywhere, and we hit our glasses against each other.
“Looks like you’re staying over, love” he mumbles.
His arm comes around my waist as I rest my head against his shoulder, finishing my shot and setting it on the table in front of us.
“You are drunk,” I say quietly as his hand finds it’s way under the hem of my shirt, tracing circles on my lower back.
“I’m not drunk” he shakes his head, narrowing his eyes at me as he tries to hold back a smile.
“Ed” I reply unconvinced, bringing my hand up to the side his face. I trace my fingers along his cheek, down to his chin “your face is flushed, your cheeks are hot, and we just took down a bottle of Irish whiskey between the two of us. You’re drunk”
“So are you” he smiles matter-of-factly,
“Yeah” I agree, “definitely drunk, and definitely not driving home.”
He nods in satisfaction before dipping his head, catching the skin on my collarbone between his lips.
“You’re really pretty” he unattaches his lips from my skin, looking at me, bringing his hand to the side of my face, pushing my hair behind my ear.
“You know what happens when you drink?” I ask, bringing my bottom lip between my teeth, as I look at him
“Hmm?” he asks, tilting his head, impatiently waiting for my response.
“You lose your filter” I poke his chest with my finger and nod my head, “you admit to everything.”
“Do you?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at me, smirking.
“Of course” I mumble quietly.
I push his body away from mine long enough for me to move down the couch until I’m lying flat on my back. My head’s spinning from the alcohol, and all I can think of is the fact that I’m more trashed than I thought I was. I was going to have one hell of a headache tomorrow and probably an aversion to the taste of alcohol in my mouth. I close my eyes for a moment feeling ed’s weight shifting from where he was sitting. When I open my eyes, I’m face to face with him, his hands on either side of my head, holding himself up over me, his head hovering dangerously close to mine.
“Tell me something” Ed speaks quietly as his finger traces a line from my ear down to my collarbone. His eyes move along the same path and then flash back to mine, “unfiltered”
“I like the backstreet boys” a laugh escapes from my mouth. And I bring my hand to cover it, keeping all of my ridiculous thoughts to myself
“No” he shakes his head, and pulls my hand from my mouth, “tell me something you’d never tell me if you were sober”
I bite my lip in an attempt to stop the words from coming out of my mouth, but it’s something that the back of my mind has wanted to say since we met. It’s not a novel thought, not something that I find myself hiding from him, just something that might make the shy and timid Ed uncomfortable.
“I think it would be sexy as hell if you had your way with me” I breathe, trying to gauge his reaction from his facial expression. I watch as a smirk turns the corner of his lip upwards.
“Instead of?” he raises his eyebrows, watching my lips for my response.
“Being gentle and sweet” I shake my head, “I love the things you do to me, I just think it would be hot if you’re aggressive”
He moves his lips to my ear, taking my earlobe between his teeth, and I inhale sharply in surprise
“We can make that happen,” he whispers before pulling away, looking at me.
Even though it’s pretty dark in his living room, I can see his cheeks flush as the words tumble from his mouth.
“Ed” I say in disbelief, “you’re drunk”
“Yeah and turned on. And I’ve got my girlfriend in a compromising position” he replies grinding his hips against mine, “Jesus, look at you.”
“We said we weren’t going to do this” I make a conscious effort to try and stop him, but his breath is hot against my skin as his lips leave wet kisses down my neck.
“That’s before we got drunk” his lips leave my skin briefly to reply.
“Okay” I bite my bottom lip, as he climbs off of me, helping me up off of the couch, pulling me towards his room.
“Tell me what you want,” he says,
“Stop talking” I groan pushing him backwards into his room, “and kiss me”
Ed grabs my wrist, pulling me further into his room before pushing me up against the wall, hands at the back of my neck, tipping my face up and capturing my mouth. I slip my hands down his chest, holding fast to his waist.
“Fuck,” he breathes, moving his lips to my throat. My pulse was beating fast as he follows it down to my collarbone, one hand finding its way under my t-shirt, working its way up to my chest. I move my head away from him to give him access as he moves his other hand down over my ass, grinding himself against me. He grabs the back of my knee, hooking it over his hip and pinning me to the wall. At this point, my head’s spinning not only from the alcohol, but also from the smell of his cologne and the heat radiating off of his body, enough to make me gasp as he bites into the soft skin above my shoulder.
“This what you want?” he pulls away from me and his eyes meet mine, and I nod, brushing my fingers along his jaw.
His arm wraps around my waist as he takes a few steps backwards, taking me with him. The back of his legs hit the mattress, and he sits down, his hands moving from my waist to my ass, as he looks up at me. His fingers undo the button of my jeans, pushing the material over my hips. I take a step backwards and look at the expression on his face.
“You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen a girl before” I laugh breathlessly.
“No girls that look like you” he mumbles, undoing the button on his own jeans, lifting his ass and pushing them down his body, leaving them in a heap at the end of the bed.
I watch as he blushes at his own words, and I lick my lips. I pull my own t-shirt over my head, and watch as his eyes travel down my body, over the black lace bra and underwear covering my skin, his mouth dry in anticipation
I stand and consider the man sitting on the bed before me. Most girls want built guys, with defined six packs; tall dark and handsome. But I want Ed. Ginger hair, pale skin, tattoos covering his arms, belly.
“I guarantee I can look at you for a lot longer than you can look at me” he chuckles, one eyebrow raised at me.
I spin around, showing off, my back turned towards him.
“I watch you play shows,” I tell him, hooking a thumb in the side of the lace panties, lowering them slightly, “singing, and playing guitar”
“What else?” I can practically hear him swallow, as I unhook the clasp to my bra, letting it fall to the floor in front of me
“Sweating, pouring yourself into the show” I continue, pushing the lace over my ass, to the ground, turning back to face him, “knowing what you look like underneath those jeans”
His hands are in fists by his side, trying to stay calm, as my eyes leave his momentarily to look at his lap, smirking at the effect I have on him.
“What do you think then?” he asks, clearing his throat.
I move towards him, climbing over him, resting my knees on either side of his hips.
“I think the girls screaming at you at those shows don’t know the half of it” I tell him.
He grabs my hips as I speak and rolls me over onto my back as he climbs on top of me.
“Mmmm” he whispers against the delicate skin of my neck, biting down as he grinds his lap into mine. He pushes against me and I wrap my legs around his waist.
His eyelashes flutter as I press my hand to his length, stroking, feeling him stiffen in my hand as he takes deep, even breaths. With a flick of my wrist, I’m under his shorts.
“God,” he said quietly, Smooth and hard and hot against her palm. I work his waistband down, sliding one hand needlessly over his bare ass to make sure I got every last inch as I pushed the material down his legs, until he could kick them off.
“Aggressive, remember?” I brought my lips to his ear, reminding him of our deal. It doesn’t take long for him to guide himself into me, gritting his teeth against the first contact.
It’s been awhile since we’ve been at this, but the feeling is familiar as his hips meet mine. And it’s incredible, at that.
He pushes, eliciting a gasp from me. He moans, and I twist handfuls of bed sheet as he slowly drives between my legs.
“You’re good at this” I reply, as his laugh turns into a groan, before hitching my legs around his waist again, a small cry coming from my lips. I watch as he smiles in satisfaction.
“Ed,” I say breathlessly. We both had forgotten how good this felt, the loss of control, the slow push and pull. He locks his lips to mine and I kiss him back fiercely.
His fingers dent my flesh, tilting my hips at an angle that felt phenomenal. My head fell back, breaking from his lips, but I couldn’t make a sound. He presses down, pushing harder through his legs, convincing me that he’s trying to snap me in half, my back arched, Ed ramping up the pace.
I can tell he isn’t going to last long at this pace, and I move my hips in a figure eight, receiving an enthusiastic, “oh god” from him. There’s no time for any tricks or changing positions.
I felt dizzy, blinking away stars, my legs squeezing at his waist with his hands on my ass.
“You’re gonna make me come,” he pants.
I was at the point where I couldn’t even make coherent thoughts that didn’t pertain to what I was feeling.
“God you feel so fucking good.”
He’s still hovering over me, his own body still trying to cram itself inside me on every thrust. My body hums so loud that I can’t even hear myself speak a few simple words.
“Kiss me,” I plead with him, and he does as he’s told, crushing his mouth to mine, the force and insistence in his movements pushing me off the edge. My body clenches, and shudders, my back arching, my hips lifting clear off of the bed. I feel his body snap with tension, and fall apart. He cries out against the skin of my neck and comes; hot, hard bursts, holding me up into his lap like he’s afraid of putting me through the mattress, drained.
His body falls on top of mine, slumping against me, my fingers twisting lazily in the hair at the back of his neck.
“You okay?” I ask, as I hear his breathing change, and lifts his head, looking at me.
“I think I just died,” he laughs, pressing his lips to mine
“How’s the afterlife?” I joke.
“Great, and full of alcohol” he nods, rolling off of me, and pulling me towards him. His arms wrap around my torso, my head against his chest. We fall silent for awhile, before I speak up.
“Drinking was the best decision ever,” I laugh against the skin of his chest.
“Definitely” he replies, “we should do this more often.”