Ed Sheeran [SMUT]

movie theaters

"We are not watching that god damn ‘Stars in Our Skies’ movie,” Ed rolls his eyes while sitting on the edge of our bed, flipping through movie times on his iPhone.

I glare at him in the bathroom mirror, but he doesn’t notice. “It’s the Fault in Our Stars,” I reply back, patting on a bit more of powder to set the foundation.

"Oh, yes!” Ed exclaims, grinning.

"What?"

"X-Men plays at 8:30," he looks up.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes.

"What?" He whines. "You chose freaking Frozen the last five times. I think it’s my turn to pick something.”

I laugh. “It was twice and it’s a good movie. I saw you singing along to Let It Go, so don’t pretend like you didn’t enjoy it.”

Ed grins. “Either way, it’s still my turn. And you’re not gonna get me with the puppy eyes again so don’t even think about trying it,” he murmurs, glancing back down at his phone. “There’s an 8:15 showing of Godzilla and an 8:20 showing of 22 Jump Street, which one do you want to see?”

I think about it for a moment while retouching my mascara. “Well, Channing Tatum IS in 22 Jump Street so—”

"Alright, we’re watching Godzilla." Ed interrupts. He stands and grabs his jacket off the dresser. "You almost ready?"

"Mm, hold on." I close the bathroom door and pull the little black dress off its hanger. I had been waiting to wear it all week knowing it’d be perfect for tonight. I slip it on, feeling the polyester brush against the tops of my thighs. It’s a sweetheart dress with a deep V, hopefully showing off enough cleavage to distract Ed from those god damn dinosaurs. I grab a statement necklace and throw it on, knowing it’ll immediately draw his attention. Spritzing some perfume on my neck and arms, I grab my cardigan and put on my favorite heels.

"Hurrrrrry, I don’t wanna miss the beginning again," Ed calls.

"Shut up, I’m ready," I grumble, opening the door and catching his blue eyes. They’re immediately drawn to my cleavage. "Ready?" I grin, shutting off the lights and picking up my purse on the way out.

"You know, we’re going to a movie theater, not a club," I hear him mutter.

I frown, turning to face him as we walk out of our apartment together. “You don’t like it?” I ask, purposely tipping my head to the side and brushing some hair back, putting my bare neck on display. He sighs, tucking himself in the corner of the elevator.

I can’t help but smirk as I approach him, running a hand down his arm. “Well?” I ask. His eyes struggle to stay straight.

"C’mon, we only have 20 minutes to get there and park and…" His eyes wander. The elevator bell rings, signaling the lobby’s reached. "Lets go," he mutters, walking out in front of me.

God, he was like silly puddy in my hand and he knew it.

—

I lead him into the theater, beginning to enter a row where another young couple sat. Though, Ed’s hand yanks me back before I can take another step. “No this row,” he insists, dragging me up about 10 more stairs to the absolute top row which is completely empty.

Ed hates sitting at the top. He usually chooses to be somewhere in the middle. The screen was hard on his eyes and it was easier for him to see closer up. But it seems he’s decided he’s not too interested in the movie any longer.

I take a seat, munching on some popcorn as Ed sits, keeping his hands in his lap. He’s trying to focus on the movie preview, but every now and then I feel his eyes drag back to me. The preview ends and I turn to him, pushing the box of popcorn out, “Want some?” I ask, sucking some of the excess butter off my finger tips.

His mouth opens slightly. “N-no thanks.” He pushes the box away.

I shrug casually, crossing my legs. My dress slips slightly higher up my thigh. I swear I hear ed groan. I continue on casually teasing him as the movie begins: brushing my leg against his, pushing my hair off my shoulder, licking my lips. After the tenth time the stupid dinosaur destroys another building my boredom level peaks. I place my hand on his thigh nonchalantly, pretending to be far too engrossed in the film to be paying attention to what my hands are doing.

But he knows exactly what I’m doing.

His hand goes to brush mine away, but after a moments hesitation he places his hand on top of my own, squeezing it. I smirk. I move my hand further up his thigh, my eyes glued to his face for any reactions. He’s desperately trying to focus on the movie, but I know my touch is getting to him, distracting him, drawing him into me. I push the arm rest up between us and scoot closer to him, swiftly undoing the button of his pants and unzipping them.

His eyes shoot to me. “Babe…” He says softly over the loud crashes and booms from the movie. I can tell he wants to tell me to stop. I can tell he wants me to go on. He knew this would happen, though. That’s why he chose such a secluded row.

My hand slips greedily under his boxers, grabbing his hardening cock. His head falls back against the seat, squirming at the contact. I continue touching him, my fingers gently stroking him. I lean over now, locking my lips onto his neck. I hear an audible gasp. He pushes my head and hand away and I pout, watching as he wriggles off his skinny jeans urgently. His hand goes to my neck, tugging me down to his lap.

"Of all places you want me to give you head in a movie theater?” I hiss.

He only whines, squirming around in anguish. “Please, please, please,” he begs, his thumbing brushing endearingly against my chin.

I acquiesce, taking his cock again and lowering my mouth onto him. “Fuck,” he moans during a quiet scene, drawing the attention of some other viewers below us. He simply looks around, pretending as if he hadn’t said a word. I snicker, moving a finger to hiss lips, “Shush, babe.”

He scowls. “C’mon,” he says, fixing his pants, “Lets go.”

I sit back in the chair casually, “No way. The movie’s not even half way done.”

He glowers at me, already standing. “I said: Lets. Go.” His voice is low and full of harshness and I know better than to bargain with him.

I grab my stuff and he grabs my arm, leading us out as many people watch us in curiosity while we exit. The theater has emptied out; most have gone home or are in a movie. Ed finds a open supply closet and unlocks it, shuffling me in.

"Well, this is romantic,” I say sarcastically as he switches a flickering fluorescent light on. He’s already got his pants unbuttoned and off, moving on to his boxers. “Couldn’t wait till we got to the car? Or maybe home?” I ask, an eyebrow raised.

"Nope. Not when you’re in that dress." He smiles before boxing me into the door, his hands slipping up my bare thighs as his chest presses into mine. "As much as I’d like to enjoy ripping this dress off of you," he coos, his lips ravaging my neck. "I don’t want a janitor to catch us fucking, do you?" He asks, tipping my chin up to look at him.

"N-no."

His smile grows. “Good.” He hikes up my dress, slipping his hand into the flimsy fabric of my underwear. Before I can even think of what he’s going to do, he’s already doing it. His fingers rub against me, feverishly pressing and hitting all the right spots. He quickly takes off his boxers, murmuring “not much time” into my skin. One of his hands pulls up my thigh, bringing it around his hip as he enters me. His first thrusts are slow, calculated, and gentle. Though, with each passing second he picks up the pace until the door is rattling beneath our bodies. As our sweat and moans mix together, his movements become more erratic, more needy, more reckless.

"Sososo close," he mumbles.

"Me too," is all I manage as I bury my lips into the crook of his neck, trying to keep any noises at bay as to not alert anyone who could be walking by.

He finishes shortly after I do, groaning into my ear. Ed catches his breath before kissing my forehead and pulling away, fixing his boxers and jeans. I pull up my own panties, smirking at him wildly.

"Guess we should’ve watched Frozen then, huh?” I smile.

He shrugs, smiling as well. “Guess so.”