meghan trainor oneshots // m.t

6.9 • One Night Stand (Pt. 1)

He pushed me through the door, both of us stumbling drunkenly and kissing messily. I threw his coat to the opposite side of the room, and began to unbutton his white shirt. His hand moved from my waist to my upper back, and then tugged at the zipper to my dress, pulling it down. I ran my fingers over his abs once I'd thrown his white dress shirt to the floor. He pushed me onto the sofa, and climbed on top of me smirking. As he kissed down my neck, I let a string of slurred moans escape me.

The next morning I woke up, my head relentlessly pounding as nausea settled in my stomach. I groaned, holding my head in my hands. Glancing beside me, I let out a soft gasp. Leave it to me to get so drunk I wouldn't be able to remember my own name and sleep with a man I don't know. Now I'm going to have to leave without an explanation; real classy, Meghan. Carefully, I removed his hand from my naked waist, and then slipped on the dress from last night. After quickly wiping my face clean of all makeup and straightening out my hair, I went to leave his room.

"Leaving me so soon, princess?" I froze in my spot, like a child caught doing something they shouldn't, and cursed under my breath. "Damn, that hurts," he chuckled, a soft smirk in his tone.

"And this hangover is not affecting you how?" I asked the mystery man, turning to face him, shame stitched into my wincing smile. "Because I'm in a hell of a lot of pain right now, and you're grinning like nothing's happened."

"I'm immune," he shrugged with a laugh. "But seriously, why are you leaving so soon? Am I that bad?" he inquired, a soft smirk still on his lips as he sat propping himself up with his elbows.

"Probably not, but I don't remember anything from last night," I admitted. "Not even your name."

He stood up, a pair of Calvin Klein boxers on, and moved towards me. "Ashton," he introduced, still smiling. I looked down at the six pack he had, then back up at his sharp jawline and messy blonde hair. I hate to admit it, but drunk me has very good taste. "It's very nice to meet you, Meghan."

"You remembered mine," I smiled awkwardly, looking down and shifting my feet with nervousness. "What do you want with me, Ashton? Most guys just accept that it was a one night stand, and move on, rarely even talk the morning after. Except the occasional 'um, you forgot your bra'. Yet, here you are, remembering my name, introducing yourself and your six little friends down there," I spoke, pointing to his abs.

"Little? I'm hurt, I worked hard for those." He wiggled his eyebrows and the corners of his lips were turned into a light smirk.

"I'm serious."

"I know, princess," he nodded taking my hand. "I don't do one night stands," he spoke finally, looking into my pine-tree green eyes with his perfectly ocean blue ones. "I rarely even get drunk. I know that there's something special about you, Meghan. Other than the fact that you're undeniably and ridiculously beautiful, I'd like to get to know you better."

I looked at him like he'd grown two heads.

He laughed softly, taking my hand in his. I looked down at it uneasily; who is this guy? "You have no reason to trust me, I know. But.. give me a chance. Just one day, that's all I ask, and I'll prove to you that you can trust me. Maybe even learn to like me," he chuckled, letting my hand go free and walking back towards the bed. He started to root through his drawers, bringing out a plain white t-shirt, glancing at me as he pulled it over his head.

"Fine," I relented, sighing. "But consider yourself lucky that I had no plans for today, and you need to take me to my apartment. I need to change and I need painkillers, my head's pounding."

"You know, I do have Tylenol, you can have some if you need it." He took my hand in his, and led me to his kitchen. In my drunken stupor last night, I hadn't had a proper look at his place. I was too busy making out with him if I'm honest. It was nice, his room was decorated with red, white, and black colours, then his kitchen was modern; black appliances, white cupboards and counters, black chairs and a glass dining table. He grabbed the painkillers, and turned to me wearing a smile that lit up his breathtaking eyes and showed his pearly-white teeth. "Catch," he smirked.