#casually throws out an oc you've never seen before

[hexingneon]

*insert lore here*

[rikis-girl]

Spiderman

Warnings: Harsh words and angst Pairing: Spiderman!Jake x fem!reader Synopsis: You loved Jake and you always will. But is it worth dating Spiderman though?

"Gwen Stacy!!!!!" your mother called for you from downstairs. You almost dropped your polaroid of your beloved boyfriend Jake Parker; brother of the late Peter Parker. Jake had just joined the army of spider people under Miguel and was not too familiar with the spiders but Gwen Stacy, aka ghost spider or spiderwoman.

You rush downstairs to see your mother holding up her phone to take your picture as you twirl in your dress.

"How do I look mom?" "Like a successful science experiment" she replied taking a picture casually and flicking her tears.

The doorbell rings and your super cute golden retriever of a boyfriend stood there with the biggest most excited and nervous smile you've seen anyone sport. "May I come in Mrs.Stacy?"

He notices you standing and posing for the camera and his jaw drops to the ground. "You look....... whoa" he sputters in disbelief as he takes in your fit. "Do I look good Jakey?" you ask. "You look so pretty I'm upset that there are only 3 dimensions I can view you from." His sparkling eyes make your heart stutter.

He gently takes your hand in his as your mom calls you two to take pictures together. He slips his hand around your waist and pulls you closer. "Don't be shy baby." He says before smiling for the picture.

Soon you both are in his second hand car and are making your way to prom. A scream pulls through the school cafeteria and Jake gets into his spider get up instantly.

"Please be safe out there." You tell him; worried that you'll have to face the same Jake who was impaled by the great Doc Oc who he accidentally, indirectly murdered.

"Have I ever not been safe?" He jokes, you give him a stern and worried look conveying how upsetting it is to see the love of your life coming home with all those scratches and wounds.

"Fine, I will stay out of too much trouble" He gives you a chaste kiss before slipping his mask on and swinging into the cafeteria.

Loud clanging sounds are heard from the cafeteria and you hear Jake throwing a few playful quips here and there as you try to guide everyone to safety. "I'M NOT A MONSTER!!!!" a scream echoes through the building. "I know you're not." Jake whispers, trying to calm down the broken soul in front of him. "THEN WHY IS IT THAT NO ONE LOVES ME? NOT MY MOM, NOT MY DAD, NOT MY EX! WHEN WILL I FIND LOVE?? Will you help me?" The girl sobs, breaking down in front of your boyfriend. "Wait what? I mean, you will find love eventually..... But for now you need to love yourself." He reaches his hand out to pull her up from the wall of plants she pulled up with her powers.

Jake suddenly gets himself pulled in by said girl as she traps him in her plant. "Knew you would fall for a poor, unfortunate soul." She says, chuckling darkly. "I TRUSTED YOU FLO!" your betrayed boyfriend shrieks.

"Too bad spidey, now you're all mine" she says and starts walking to him and Jake starts to expect the worst lashing he's had in weeks and closes his eyes for the impact which never came.

In front of his eyes stood his strong and brave girlfriend yanking the hair of Flo; a teen who magically started having super powers related to her favorite superhero: poison Ivy.

"STACY NO GET OUT OF HERE" Jake yells as he tries to free himself off the binds.

"THIS BITCH TRIED TO TAKE MY MAN I AIN'T BACKING DOWN SUPERPOWER OR NOT!!!" You scream vigorously pulling the hair of the deranged female in front of you.

Jake frees himself and brings you to safety and removes his mask.

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" He whisper-shouts, mad. "The bitch wanted MY man.... I will have a problem with that" you explained.

Jake just shook his head and pulled his mask on. "STAY. PUT. HERE." He warns sternly as he swings off, leaving you sitting on a rooftop with your feet dangling in the air.

A good 20 minutes pass by when you feel something wrap around your neck. Before you can respond, you loose your vision and consciousness.

The first thing you see after the incident is the ground at least 80 feet below you and a gag around your mouth. Your boyfriend is fighting the crazy plant girl Flo as he keeps checking on you, dangling right above a vat of weird chemicals.

"WELCOME TO MY HOME GWEN STACY, AKA SPIDEY'S WHORE!" Flo screams from some random floor in the building which you were dangling from. You notice plants holding your arms and neck, keeping you from plunging to your death. You look frantically for a way to escape when one of the plants holding your right hand lets go, leaving you dangling by your left hand and your throat.

"THE CHILDREN OR THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE SPIDEY!" Flo yells as a bus of children are dropped along with you from either sides of the building. "SAVE THE KIDS!" You scream before plunging to your inevitable death. You see you boyfriend rushing to save the kids at your word and you close your eyes accepting fate when you feel something sticking onto your chest as you open your eyes to see your boyfriend's web attached to you. "I can do both, Spider-man always does both."

You were only a few feet above the ground and it was almost too late and you look at your boyfriend one last time with his mask on as a plant attacks him, leaving you to hit the ground as a shooting pain surges through your body and you breathe no more.

You have a dream with Jake and you smiling and holding your grandkids, but you knew all too well that you were gone.

On the other side of the battle field, Jake's watch glows. The words 'Canon intact' flash the screen as he sees Miguel from his peripheral vison. The words Gwen from 65 rung in his head as he fought Flo with tears streaming down his face.

"In every other universe, Gwen Stacy falls for Spider-man.... and in every other universe, it doesn't end well."

A/N; I finally figured how to make this thing work so, made some changes! Hope you like it!!

[jungkookschin]

ooooo drabble about demigod trials…anything about taehyung x oc imma be full already 😎

*this is before yn and tae meet!*

When Mingyu is 22 years old, the portal between Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter is finally constructed. Forged under the guide of Hephaestus himself, the portal stands as a symbol of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter's alliance- an alliance that could never and should never be broken.

Mingyu is one of the first demigods to step through the portal. As the son of Jupiter, the king of the Roman gods, he always gets first dibs for everything- and hey, he isn't complaining.

You, Rosie, Mina, and Mingyu stand guard outside the portal from Camp Jupiter's end, but there's really nothing to stand guard for, especially since nobody is adorned in typical Roman protective gear.

"Alright guys," Mingyu starts, "if I get stuck in the void, tell my mom I love her," he dramatically proclaims, pressing a kiss on his pointer and middle fingers before extending his arm towards the gods.

You roll your eyes, and Mingyu starts to think that you look a little too casual- with your oversized Camp Jupiter tee and shorts hidden underneath the fabric of your shirt. "You're not gonna get stuck," you reason, "Vulcan already guaranteed the portal's operational efficiency, and if you do get stuck..." you shrug, "then whatever."

Mina and Rose giggle, and Mingyu scoffs, placing a theatric hand on his heart.

"Make sure you say hi to (OC) and everyone for me, alright?" Rose interjects, to which Mina nods her head like a cute puppy.

You've yet to meet the majority of the Greek demigods. You always had Roman business to attend to, and that caused somewhat of a cognitive dissonance between you and your friends, but it didn't really matter anyways.

"Oh yea!" Mina starts, looping her arm through yours, "Y/N hasn't even seen pictures of the Greeks, right?"

Mingyu squints his eyes in contemplation before digging in his pockets for his phone. In the back of his clear phone case is a polaroid image of three men: Mingyu, Taehyung, and Jungkook- in that order.

You scrutinize the image. The photo was taken at Camp Half-Blood, and all three men are roughed up and dirty with cuts and wounds across their faces, but at the same time, they're all happy as ever, beaming with huge grins.

"The one in the middle," you express, pointing at Taehyung, "he's kinda cute."

A brief silence washes over the group of Roman demigods.

"Huh?!" Mingyu, Mina, and Rose exclaim in unison, and in that moment, Mingyu trips on a stone and falls into the portal.

-

Going through the portal from Camp Jupiter to Camp Half-Blood is like walking from one room into another, and Mingyu stumbles into the ground of Camp Half-Blood.

He falls to his knees, looking up to witness the Greek demigods staring at him confused.

"So how was it?" Namjoon asks, "Did the portal's force push you or something?"

Mingyu blinks. "Yea, something like that."

OC and Namjoon exchange excited glances, "So that means it works!" they exclaim in unison.

Taehyung offers Mingyu a hand, bringing him up to his feet.

"Are the others coming?" Taehyung asks discreetly to Mingyu to which Mingyu nods, "but only after I go back through to call them."

"Oh!" OC interjects, "does that mean we're finally going to meet Y/N?"

Mingyu sheepishly rubs the nape of his neck. "Yea... I think." Mingyu looks at Taehyung, and his features contort into perplexity.

"What?" Taehyung throws out casually, "Why are you looking at me like that? And who's Y/N?"

Mingyu almost instinctively grabs his phone, pointing his lockscreen at Taehyung. The screen displays a group image of Mingyu, Mina, Y/N, and Rose- in that order.

"Who's the one I don't know? Is that Y/N? She's cute," Taehyung asserts.

"Huh?!"

[heshoes]

She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I  swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a  red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more. 

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know.  I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve." 

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I  laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

[aceghosts]

OC Tag: Song Challenge

Hey everyone! I was tagged by @commander-krios, @henbased, @ishwaris, @derelictheretic, @quentinbecks, @bluemojave, @marivenah, @adelaidedrubman, and @hoesephseed. (I think I got everyone!

I'm not going to tag anyone because I think everyone has been tagged or done this. If you haven't, consider this your tag.

step 1 -> create your oc (or ocs) in this picrew

step 2 -> list 5 songs that inspired (or captured the feel of) your OC. if you choose multiple, feel free to pick your favorite or do songs for all of them! (and feel free to list fewer or more songs if you want)

OCs and Songs under the cut!

Blue Murphy

Rocky Mountain High by John Denver

Now he walks in quiet solitude the forests and the streams/Seeking grace in every step he takes/His sight has turned inside himself to try and understand/The serenity of a clear blue mountain lake/And the Colorado Rocky Mountain high/I’ve seen it rainin' fire in the sky/Talk to God and listen to the casual reply/Rocky Mountain high (High in Colorado)

Stay Gentle by Brandi Carlile

Don't let the world make you callous/Be ready to laugh/No one's forgotten about us/There is light on your path/Stay gentle, keep the eyes of a child/And wear your heart on your sleeve/Know to find joy in the darkness is wise/Although they will think you are naïve

The Violence by Rise Against

Are we not good enough? Are we not brave enough?/Is the violence in our nature just the image of our maker?/Are we not good enough? Are we not brave enough?/To become something greater than the violence in our nature?/Are we not good, good enough or is it all a dream?

Raise Hell by Brandi Carlile

I found myself an omen and I tattooed on a sign/I set my mind to wandering and I walk a broken line/You have a mind to keep me quiet/And although you can try/Better men have hit their knees/And bigger men have died/I'm gonna raise, raise hell/There's a story no one tells/You gotta raise, raise hell/Go on and ring that bell

The World Ender by Lord Huron

You'll hear me howl by the light of the moon/That's how you'll know that I'm coming for you/Gonna find you alone in the dark of night/When the World Ender comes, better run for your life/I’ll never bleed and I won’t ever age/I’ll never feel the embrace of the grave/The fair and the brave and the good must die/I seen the other side of living, I know heaven's a lie/I’ll tear through the night and I'll raise some hell/Cause I'm the World Ender, baby, and I'm back from the dead

Rooney Shepard

Legends Never Die by Against the Current

They're written down in eternity/But you'll never see the price it costs – the scars collected all of their lives/When everything's lost, they pick up their hearts and avenge defeat/Before it all starts, they suffer through harm just to touch a dream/Oh, pick yourself up 'cause/Legends never die when the world is calling you/Can you hear them screamin' out your name?/Legends never die, they become a part of you/Every time you bleed for reaching greatness/Legends never die

Butterflies and Hurricanes by Muse

Change everything you are/And everything you were/Your number has been called/Fights and battles have begun/Revenge will surely come/Your hard times are ahead/Best, you've got to be the best/You've got to change the world/And use this chance to be heard/Your time is now (Your time is now)

Morph by Twenty One Pilots

If I keep moving, they won't know/I'll morph to someone else/What they throw at me's too slow/I'll morph to someone else/I'm just a ghost/I'll morph to someone else/A defense mechanism mode/If I keep moving, they won't know/I'll morph to someone else/A defense mechanism mode/I'll morph to someone else

Are You Ready to Live? By Dream State

Tired and distraught/You've got to get up off of the floor/I know you are alone but honey, we all are/Can you hear life is calling?/Feel it under your skin/The unknown drawing you close, working its way within/It's been with us from the start/Shows its face through our hearts/So let us take a stand and speak for the ones, the ones who can't

Saturn by Sleeping at Last

You taught me the courage of stars before you left/How light carries on endlessly even after death/With shortness of breath you explained the infinite/How rare and beautiful it is to even exist

Hunter Delaney

Alone in a Room by Asking Alexandria

I saw the world a couple of times, tried to cure the ache with absence/But that hole was still a hole and my mind kept playin' tricks on me/Feelin' older every day, took everything I had to not crash and burn/But I'm starting to learn/Sometimes I'll fall down, sometimes I'll lose hope/But those days will be few if I keep my feet on the ground/I might be lonely, but I ain't alone here/So I keep pushin' the limits of what makes me me

Half by PVRIS

Never wanted to be here now/One foot in the grave, other on the ground/I can't process what I'm feeling now/This skin, I can do without

Parasite Eve by Bring Me The Horizon

You can board up your windows/You can lock up your doors, yeah/But you can't keep washing your hands/Of this shit anymore/When all the king's sources and all the king's friends/Don't know their arses from their pathogens/When life is a prison and death is the door/This ain't a warning/This is a war, war/This is a war, ayy, ayy, oh, oh

Coming Down by Silverstein

This was never gonna be anything like love/And all I had was always too much or not enough/We were never gonna do anything but drown/And all I know is I’m still high in the clouds/I’m never coming down

What Have You Become? By MQMN

I sense a change/Something is happening to me/Only a few species ever undergo change/The others become extinct/Man will almost certainly be replaced by a new order of intelligence/Stop looking for monsters under your bed/You are the monster

[miss-smutty]

Forbidden

Chapter 1

A/N- I've teased y'all for so long I hope this series is going to live up to expectations, I'm confident it will though because I'm addicted and it's been super easy for me to write - I'm up to chapter 3 so far so updates can be on time! There's a slight age gap between my professor Hemsy and OC Jess but she's twenty and completely legal. You know this is gunna be a giant tease fest for the first couple of chapters cos that sexual tension is fucking gold 🥵

Summary- Jess meets the man of her dreams and then stupidly leaves without getting his number. Will fate bring them together again?

Word count- 1.5 K

Pairing- Professor!Chris Hemsworth x OC

Warnings- Swearing, age gap

18+ only!

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Posted: 5th August 2021

Taglist:- @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke @chickensarentcheap @jjpogueprincess @longlostinanotherworld @mostly-marvel-musings @darklydeliciousdesires @monet-belle

@skyfullofsong123 @swaggysposts

Chapter 2

I pulled out a chair at the last available table in the unusually busy coffee shop, I thought I might've caught a break choosing the one outside of campus but alas I was wrong.

I was about to sit down when the chair opposite me slid out from under the table, my eyes lifted to meet with the most sparkly blue eyes i'd ever seen. The sight of him took my breath away. Literally.

I stood staring, frozen on the spot, my mouth slightly ajar as I looked him up and down. He was tall, so tall, definitely over 6ft and built like a dream. Thick thighs straining against his fitted trousers, wide muscular shoulders and I just knew there was a six-pack hiding behind that tight t-shirt. 

"Sorry. You were here first, I'll just grab a take-out." He smirked a side smile, amused at how I was so obviously checking him out but his sexy Australian accent distracted you from anything else.

"It's fine, I'm on my own. I don't mind if you want to sit there too." I mentally face palmed myself, drawing attention to the fact I was alone wasn't the best idea but then again he was alone too. "I don't bite." I added trying my best to flirt.

It seemed to work, he smiled at me as he sat down and I took the time to admire his handsome face. He was quite clearly a lot older than me, the laughter lines around his eyes a tell tale sign but he was still quite possibly the best looking man I'd ever laid eyes on. His hair was fair and the short beard framed his face perfectly but the one thing that stood out the most were those piercing ocean-blue eyes.

"So do you come here often?" I cocked my eyebrow at him over my coffee cup making him laugh at my reaction. "Sorry, it's been a while." He said nervously, running his hand through his hair.

"It's been a while since you spoke to a stranger or…?" I questioned casually.

"It's been a while since I spoke to an attractive woman." He finished, his eyes sparkling as he watched me almost choke on my drink.

"Oh, I err…. I don't think you're doing too badly." I absentmindedly circled my finger around the rim of my cup, crossing my leg over my other and accidently rubbing my foot up his leg. My cheeks felt hot and flushed as I looked up into his eyes and saw him smiling slyly.

"Evidently. We're already playing footsie under the table." He smiled widely, a genuine smile that stretched the corners of his mouth. I smiled back at him shyly, thinking of something to say to change the subject before I ended up looking like a tomato.

"What part of Australia are you from?"

"I'm originally from Melbourne but I lived in Byron Bay before I came to America." 

"Awesome. I've always wanted to go to Australia, the Spiders put me off though." 

"Yeah I think they put most people off but in heavily populated areas they stay pretty much hidden, I think it's the size that scare people." How have I made this conversation go from flirting to talking about spiders? And how do I get back to flirting?

"Are we still talking about spiders?" I raised my eyebrows questioningly and laughed at the innuendo, flicking my hair over my shoulder. I noticed something in his eyes when I did so, a hunger, just a little flash and then it was gone again. I'm sure I didn't imagine it though because his eyes lingered on my exposed shoulders.

I checked my watch subtly, not wanting him to think he was boring me but I had to get to class and couldn't be late again, not when this semester had only just started.

"I'm really sorry, I'm gonna have to run, I'm going to be late. It was really nice meeting you." I gathered up my bags, ready to leave.

"Already? You've only just got here." He looked disappointed, his smile fading. His mouth opened as if he was going to say something else and then closed again when he saw I was ready to leave. "It was really nice to meet you too, hopefully I'll see you again." His eyes sparkled as he looked into mine, standing from his chair to get the door for me. I felt fireworks when his hand brushed against the small of my back and his face lingered close to mine. The tension was unreal, like we were the only people in the room as his eyes hungrily stared into my soul, undressing me with his eyes. My heart stopped beating when his face moved closer to mine so I could feel his breath on my lips, the smell of coffee and his aftershave filling my nostrils. I paused, my feet routed to the spot, I wanted him to kiss me so badly but I moved away at the last minute. Surely he wasn't actually going to kiss me, we'd only just met, that would be ridiculous. Wouldn't it?

********

I spent most of class daydreaming about my tall handsome stranger and the way he looked at me but most of all how I didn't even get his name. Or his number.

Now I was feeling sorry for myself because it would just be my luck to meet the man of my dreams and then never see him again. So I'd moped about all day and avoided the invitations for drinks after class. Instead I'd

gotten home early, changed into some sweats and settled myself in front of the TV for the night.

"What's up with your face?" My roommate, Ellie said as she walked into our room, throwing her bags onto her bed.

"What're you talking about?" 

"Your face. Looks like you're chewing on a wasp."

"Feeling sorry for myself." I pout pathetically.

"Why, what've you done now?" She rolled her eyes, kicking off her shoes and throwing her legs up onto the bed. I felt so lucky to have a roommate like Ellie, during our freshman year she'd become my best friend practically straight away and now after two years together we were practically sisters.

I sat up in bed cross legged and faced Ellie, getting myself ready to spill my misfortunes of the day with her.

"Well, I went to Impresso's this morning to get my morning coffee before class." She nodded, showing her enthusiasm by also sitting cross legged on her own bed, facing me. "And it was packed full of students, there was only one table left. So I went to grab it as soon as I could." She raised her eyebrow at me, wondering where I was going with the story. "And I kid you not, the most attractive man I have ever seen, pulls out the chair opposite me." 

"Oh my god! No way. Did you talk? Oh my god, this is like the perfect chick flick. Carry on." I smiled at her excitement.

"I told him I didn't mind if he sat there, I mean of course I didn't mind, you should've seen him El. Oh, oh, oh I almost forgot" I flapped my hands, bouncing on the spot. "He was fucking Australian."

"Fuck off, you're lying. Drop dead gorgeous with the sexiest accent ever. How is this even real? Now remind me why you're sat there with a face like a slapped arse?" 

"I panicked when I had to leave, didn't want to be late for class and I didn't get his number, didn't even give him chance to ask for mine." 

"Wow! Ok, now I understand. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't thinking, I was panicking and you know what I'm like when I panic." You sulk.

"It's ok, maybe you'll bump into him again."

"Yeah, right. I should be so lucky."

"Cheer up." she says throwing a cushion at me. "There's a party at Alpha Kappa this weekend, I'm sure we can find you someone to help get over your mystery man. Or under should I say?" She raised her eyebrow at me, smiling slyly and making me laugh. She always did know how to cheer me up and maybe a party is what I needed.

There must be some good looking boys around campus that could make me forget about my Australian hunk. Surely? I thought about the guys I'd seen around campus, the guys I'd seen at frat parties and that's definitely not what I wanted. How could a twenty year old boy match to the masculine, experienced man I met this morning. My mind was set, I'd dipped my feet ever slightly into the mature pool and that's what I wanted more than anything. There was always something missing with previous boyfriends and I was tired of all the game playing. I wanted someone who knew what they wanted and wasn't afraid to get it.

The only thing was, he didn't know I was only twenty and I had no way of finding him again. If fate did bring us back together, would he mind that I was still a student? That I couldn't even drink when we went on dates? 

Who am I kidding? Of course he would mind, he could get any woman he wanted, why would he want me?

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."