O n e s h o t s || Fandom Oneshots

First. [Nyo!2p CanAme]

 "Mm- It's been a while since I've fucked around, I think the frustrations getting to me-"

"My tits are so soreeee."

"Man, I wish he would take the hint. I gave him condoms as a birthday present, he thought it was a gag joke! What a dragggg."

The girls around me continue to blab on about their sex lives, but my attention is completely divided. My hands clench onto the tips of the sleeves of my oversized sweater and I stare down at my partially exposed thighs, wishing that I'd worn longer shorts.

I hated the pressure I felt in the group. All of these girls are popular and slutty. They sleep around like no one's business and think that smoking weed is apparently cool. They're mainstream and basic and they only care about themselves.

I'm starting to question why I even stick around when there are so many things I could be doing otherwise- But I do.

My gaze is restless and I twitch my line of vision over to the counter of the cafe, where a tall blonde with a ponytail and flannel is taking orders. My vision has been flicking back and forth for a while now, ever since I'd come here, really. After a while, I realize that I'm staring, yet I pay no attention in turning away. My gaze is humble and my eyes are dimmed, and I begin to wonder why I care so much about acting like I'm straight. Like I'm into guys.

Because I'm not.

Its girls like this blonde that make me question why the closet seems like such a comfy place, and I find myself drawn towards the stranger. I pull myself up and fix my sweater, a little grin twitching at my lips and I jump a bit at the squeak that my converse make against the tile as I stand up.

I'm gonna talk to her.

The other girls in my booth don't seem to notice or pay attention to me leaving, so I continue blindly heading towards the counter, gnawing feverishly on my lip as a I realize my inability to take my eyes off of this girl. The closer I get, the more drawn in I am. She has these pretty royal purple, almost violet, kind of eyes. She doesn't look entirely happy to be here, but being the egotistical prude I know I am, maybe I could charm her up a little. 

With a feverish sigh, I cooly slide onto one of the bar stools, as it rocks back, I do my best to maintain my posture, whilst turning myself to face her at a sideways angle. "Hey beauti-" Damnit damnit! My stool is slipping beneath me. This is social suicide, Ashlynn, wha- 

bAM

kshhhhh

that hurt.

like a motherfucker.

With a groan, I lazily open my eyes to find myself staring upwards once again, and suddenly the blaring cafe lights look a lot brighter. A groan tumbles loosely from my semi-parted lips as I shakily bring a hand to my forehead before pulling myself up, only to see a lightly freckled boy with dirty blonde hair looming over me instead, annoyingly tumblr-wannabe glasses placed over his nose. 

I mean, I was getting attention,

but not the kind I wanted.

At least, not from who I wanted.

"Hey! You okay, chick?" His voice was heavily accented with your average semi-southern American drawl, much in contrast to my sharp-edged Jersey accent, something I'd accquired over years of living in that hellhole. New Jersey was a hellhole, but it was my hellhole. I loved it there.