Ed Sheeran One Shots

Picnic

Fingers tapping on the steering wheel in time to the radio, I pull into the private parking spaces out front of the studio. Unbuckling from my seat, I lean across and grab my bag and the basket from the footwell, along with my keys. I scramble out of the car in excitement, then bump the car door shut with my hip. I walk hurriedly up the steps, and enter the door code, letting myself in. Thankful for the soft-close, I creep hurriedly down the corridor, internally shushing the rustling of the bags. 

The first few rooms are empty, shrouded in darkness. Good. 

I turn left, and can hear a faint thud of bass through speakers. I gingerly follow the sound, and before I know it, his auburn hair flattened by headphones peeps into view through a windowed door. His face reflects off the glass that separates the booth from the panel room, contorted in concentration, brows furrowed, tongue sticking out. Perfect. I dart into the darkened room on the opposite side of the corridor and begin work, continuing to listen to the thudding from Ed's desk as I work secretly next door.

The red and white checkered blanket billows out as I shake it, letting it gently float to the floor, nestled amongst guitars, drums, music stands, loop pedals and more. I spread out the creases and folds, then open the basket, pulling out tasty picnic treats; Chocolate covered strawberries, prosecco, triangled sandwiches full of egg and cress, ham hock and mustard, smoked salmon and cream cheese, brie and cranberry, Doritos - obviously, red velvet cupcakes, the whole lot. I arrange the spread in the middle, scattering rose petals around for added romantic effect. He loves this sort of stuff. I pull out two champagne flutes, each engraved with our initials - a wedding day gift from his parents - and arrange them in the basket either side of the cool bottle of prosecco. Once satisfied with the way everything looked, wanting it to be perfect, I shrug off my coat and straighten out the peplum on my top. I stand, and tousle my hair a bit, then surreptitiously make my way out of the room. 

Once safely hidden in the shadows, I quickly tiptoe back down the corridor, then walk normally, with a bit more of a heavy footing towards Ed's room, trying to now make my presence known to him.I reach the door, and tap gently on the window before entering, so as not to startle him. But he doesn't hear, so I slowly open the door, then creep up behind his chair. He's still oblivious, lost in the world of harmonies, vocals, chords, melody lines and mixing. Gently, I place my hands on his shoulders, feeling him tense slightly. He turns his head to look around, but I plant a kiss on his neck before he gets the chance. Instantly, he relaxes knowing exactly who those lips belong too.

He spins the chair around to face me and gives me a goofy, albeit tired, grin. He holds his arms out to me for a cuddle, and I happily oblige. He pulls me into his lap, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck, his hair tickling my nose, making me giggle.

"What're you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too!" I laugh, and he playfully pokes me.

"You know what I mean! I just wasn't expecting you to be here thats all. I didn't even think I'd get a chance to see you tonight. I have this one thing that I want to be perfect on this track, but I just can't get in the right mindset, so nothing sounds right, and I'm just getting proper frus-"

I cut him off, gently brushing my lips against his. He moans in contentment, a smile dancing across his face. I pull away and smile up at him through my eyelashes. He licks his lips.

"You hungry? I thought maybe we could go for dinner? Your choice. Maybe it will help you clear your head and get past this block?" He lets out a deep sigh, looking defeated, and rubs his eyes with the backs of his hands.

"I'm sorry Bub, but I really can't leave here until its finished. I just need to power through. I am starving though... man, I could eat a fucking horse!" His chuckle is quiet, subtle, I can tell he's stressed.

"Oh, that sucks. Well, it's a good thing I brought dinner with me then." I slip off his lap, my hands gliding down his arms to hold his hands. He looks so confused, its adorable. I laugh at him lightly.

"C'mon!" I tug him out of his chair, and guide him out of the room, my hand encapsulated in his. Leading him across the corridor, he goes to ask something but I hush him, grinning over my shoulder. I push open the door and we meander in-between the random musical equipment, instruments and furniture in the darkly lit room.

"Tada!" I do a little jump and my arms are splayed out in a display of pride and ecstasy, like a child showing off their work to a parent. I quickly bend down, and flick on some battery-powered fairy lights that were weaved around the handle of the picnic basket, then resume my proud pose, evoking a chuckle from Ed. I'm staring at him excitedly, and he's just grinning from ear to ear, eyes flicking between me and the feast on the floor.

"Man, I was kinda craving pizza." He looks at me, winking, and I swat him playfully. He laughs pulling me to him in a cosy bear hug. I bury my face into his chest, breathing him in, feeling his heartbeat against my cheek. He mutters a "Thank You" into my hair, then breaks the hug. He plops onto the floor, pulling me down after him into his lap. I lean forward and grab the glasses and the still cold bottle from the basket.

"Would you care to do the honours?" I offer him the bottle, dripping in moist condensation. He takes it from me, skilfully popping the cork without it spewing foamy alcohol everywhere, and pours us both a glass, then holds his in the air.

"To you, my love."

"To Us." I smile at him, feeling so much love for this man. For this fluffy haired, doodle covered, ketchup loving, cat obsessed, cuddly, silly, lovable, gorgeous man. We clink glasses and take a sip. He pulls a pile of music books over and puts his glass and the bottle down on it. I do the same. He rubs his hands together in anticipation, looking down at the array of goodies with glee.

"What do we have here then? Sandwiches. Choccy strawbs. Man, what did you NOT think of!" He turns, looking at me, his eyes sparkling with happiness. I grab the bag of Doritos and hold them up.

"Oh my god. You're the fucking best. Marry me?" I laugh at his silliness, wagging my ring finger at him. He takes my hand in his and plants a kiss on my hand like a Prince does to a Princess in those cheesy fairytale movies. I love it. I love him. I love us. I love this.