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[lemonsugarstoriess]

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The Princess’ Killer 📺

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Chapter 5

Masterlist - Happy x Teller!OC

Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 (in the works)

Warnings: MNDI 18+, angst, smoking, mentions of croweaters, sexual acts implied, spiraling, mentions of spiraling

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Authors note: Hii guys! I really am a little all over this place with this chapter and I may take it down and rewrite but I’m pushing it now for some opinions! If you have some please share 💛

Warm sunlight, a soft pale yellow, leaked through the side door painting over the soft green couch Juliet and Juice had never left the night before. A warm breeze accompanies it; warming the room as it goes.

Juice had sunken into the cushions with the weight of his sleep, arms curled around one of the many random couch pillows, one foot on the coffee table, and the other heavy against the ground.

He was snoring, which was usual, and it was annoying the cat who was scowling at the man from the top of his cat tower.

Juliet was rooted in the same place as the night before; knees to her chest, arms curled around them loosely and her head rested sideways on a pillow she’d propped up on the arm of the couch.

She was not snoring, but even in her sleep, her brows were pinched together; proving even there she couldn’t escape the thoughts that had plagued her in such a short time.

The apartment was silent, except for the hum of the fridge until the loud shrill of Juice's phone pierced through it startling Juliet unwillingly from her slumber. Making her grumble grumpily as she blinked a couple of times realizing she was still on the couch.

Groaning loudly at the strain in her neck as she sat up too quickly she rubbed at her eyes trying to look for the source of the ringing. It wasn’t hers so it had to be Juice’s.

The phone let out another loud trill and she decided entirely too quickly that the pillow she’d been using was now a weapon. So she chucked it at Juice’s head, cursing at him under her breath.

Juice wasn’t expecting the force of a pillow against his face to be the thing that woke him up but when he finally got his bearings he realized the sound of his phone was loud and incessant. But Juliet’s grumbling was worse.

He forced himself up from his odd position on the couch and grabbed it from the table, flipping it open and pressing it to his ear. Half asleep and voice drenched with grogginess he muttered, “Hello.” His voice was scratchy and loud and Juliet considered throwing another pillow but she decided against it because of the ache in her shoulders.

Juice forced himself off the couch, brows pulling together with a seriousness that could only mean club business as he excused himself down the hallway toward the bathroom. Making Juliet sigh as she slowly allowed the consciousness in.

Her legs ached from sleeping in a curled position. And her neck protested when she tried to turn her head, making her grumble again. Deciding she now had a personal beef with her body and all she wanted was coffee.

So she forced herself up, not even bothering to assess the mess they’d left behind the night before. Rubbing at the ache in her neck. The uninvited remains of her dream still clouding her brain. All hazy and stern eyes and rippling abs covered in tattoos she wanted to know every story too.

Except she couldn’t let herself go there, so she swallowed it down shuffling toward the coffee pot like her life depended on it. Which in that moment it felt like it did. The old machine gurgled to life filling the room with the sweet scent she loved.

By the time the pot had filled and she’d already poured herself a large cup with more hazelnut creamer than a person ever needs; Juice was coming back down the hall. His phone was nowhere in sight but she knew what he was gonna say before he opened his mouth.

She held out a hand to silence him sipping from her cup obnoxiously before fixing her sight on him. Still entirely disheveled from his sleep, Kutte hung on the coat rack. “I know, club business. Just be safe.” Her voice was still thick with sleep. Her hair is sticking up in every direction. If he wasn’t her best friend she’d be embarrassed.

“Yeah. I’ll see you later though, right?” He gave her a tight smile moving to the front door shoving his feet in his boots and checking to ensure he had everything.

“Yeah, later.” She returned his tight smile and watched him go, the door shutting behind him softly. Leaving her alone in the silence she took in a deep breath before gulping down more of her coffee. Enjoying the slight burn against her throat and the warmth that spread through her chest.

Finishing the sweet drink off before moving around the counter and back to the mess of a living room Juliet assessed the night's damage. Thankfully it hadn’t gotten too messy, albeit Juice had an affliction with throwing popcorn, there still wasn’t a lot to pick up.

So she swept first then grabbed the empty bottles from the coffee table. Tossed the old popcorn and then fixed her couch. Cushions back where they go followed by the assorted couch pillows. The final touch was the soft blanket tossed over the back.

It wasn’t a lot but it was simple enough to keep her mind occupied but as she shuffled into the bathroom, letting out a groan as she stretched her arms over her head, the thoughts began to creep back in slowly.

The warmth of Happy's hands in hers, the chill of St. Thomas. Her brain felt like a tornado of contrast. Two weather patterns clashing together, in the form of Happy and Able, to create a windstorm of thoughts dooming her to a bad day.

Stripping out of her pajamas she climbed into the shower trying to shed the weight of the last twenty-four hours. The water was hot, rolling over her shoulders and back soothing the ache left from sleeping the way she did. It rained over her skin, leaving it a faint pink. So she stood there until her fingers wrinkled, thinking instead of hands that weren’t hers.

The towel was soft against her skin, a small relief against the always-chilled bathroom air after stepping out of the steam. She wrapped up her hair before heading out of her room and into her closet.

Clothes were hung in place, two small baskets at the bottom, one dirty and the other filled with clothes she hadn’t bothered to get around to. She’d never been a fan of laundry so she was guilty of putting it off as much as she could. Now she was certain it’d be there another week if not more.

She decided she needed armor today. Something soft that still made her feel confident. Toweling herself off she assessed the options trying not to let her mind drag her too far into the muck.

Finally landing on what she wanted to wear she pulled on a long-sleeve mesh top, the fabric sheer and tight against her arms like a second skin. Pairing that with a cropped black Harley shirt. It was frayed at the collar, and perfectly worn in. She tucked it into a leopard-print skirt that hugged her hips, then slipped on a fresh pair of socks, and her Converse over that.

Her hair was next, she pulled it down drying it a little more with the towel before tossing both of them in her laundry basket. Moving to the bathroom to brush her hair out, before leaving it to dry. Following a routine like it would make her feel better.

She slid on her signature rings, her gold chain, and her sunglasses, tucking them up into her hair. Spritzing on a fruity perfume. Then checking herself over in the mirror.

She looked tired, with a slight darkness under her eyes from her restless sleep, and the weight of her never-ending thoughts. Still, her outfit was cute, she put her necklace back on and gave herself one more look over before turning the light out and back down the hallway she went.

She moved through the space like muscle memory. Feed Stevie, search for her keys, before stopping to toss her bag over her shoulder. By the time she stepped out the door, the morning air was warmer, the kind of heat that clung to your skin.

Down the stairs to her car she went, sliding behind the wheel, before lighting a cigarette and rolling all the windows down. A soft melody suddenly poured through the speakers of some song she'd never heard. She didn't bother changing it, just tossed the car in reverse and pulled out. Following her routine like a normal day heading for the shop. Even though it felt as far from normal as it could get.

By the time she entered the Teller-Morrow lot, it was its usual buzz. The scent of oil and exhaust filled the air paired with chatter and the sound of power tools. Some bikes lined up where they always were and a couple of customers were dropping off and picking up cars.

The garage doors were already rolled up. Bobby’s voice was coming from somewhere inside, arguing about carburetors or something equally useless to her right now. Tig was half-draped over the hood of an old pickup, greasy rag in one hand, smirking like he had a sixth sense for Juliet. He let out a low whistle making her roll her eyes, throwing her hand up and flicking him off, heading toward the clubhouse.

Inside, the air was cooler, not by much, the air just as stale as always. She couldn't help but grumble to herself about somebody opening a window. The space was mostly empty, a couple of hang arounds who’d been at the party were still there, the jukebox now silent, the bar sticky again. Juliet didn’t really know what she was doing here, she felt the need to help but wasn’t sure how.

Instead, she found herself yanked back into the memory of last night. How close she’d been to Happy, how his natural cologne was that of gun oil and leather. The way his hand was so warm compared to her usually cold ones, so much larger than her own. The weight of his gaze burning over her face as she cleaned him up. She swallowed hard, shaking her head before veering toward the kitchenette.

She poured herself her second cup of coffee today, fingers curling around the mug like it might warm more than her hands. The clubhouse was slow in its early, half-asleep state. Slow enough that this wasn’t helping.

Even wrapped around her mug like a lifeline her fingers itched for a cigarette. A sick feeling was creeping into her stomach, one she couldn’t place yet. She hadn’t noticed the killer's bike when she came in and she blamed herself for being distracted. Not that she’d know which one was his anyway.

Still, as she pushed herself off the counter deciding she needed to find something to do with her hand she wasn’t expecting the same man who had been occupying her brain to be rounding the corner from the dorms.

His face was stiff watching the blonde clinging to his arm as she rambled. He didn't notice Juliet at first, but she noticed him. And she continued to notice the scantily dressed croweater hanging from his arm; because of course she did. That sick feeling turned violently in her stomach and if she had less composure she might have thrown up. Then a feeling, a volatile green feeling, latched onto her like a fungus. Spreading through her body.

She stayed there a few seconds, listening to the girl giggle at herself, frozen in place like she’d forgotten how to function. When Happy finally looked up from her and met Juliet’s eyes. He noted her deer-in-headlights expression, which she held for only a moment before she snapped herself out of it. A slight pink he wished he hadn’t noticed crept up her cheeks leeching upward to the tips of her ears.

She wanted to rip the woman off him, a feeling she never once had before, one she had no right to have to begin with. He wasn’t hers, he wasn’t anyone’s, hell she didn’t even know him. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, why was he still here? He should’ve been on his way back to Tacoma not in her clubhouse with some crow who didn’t deserve to touch him. She felt the heat bloom in her cheeks, at the thought that only she should be able to touch him. She willed herself to calm down. She shouldn’t be feeling like this, she couldn’t be feeling like this.

His gaze drifted over her face before reaching her eyes, so she looked up to meet his stare. He held the same blank expression she’s only seen him have but she swore something passed behind his eyes.

He had stopped walking the croweater stumbling to a halt next to him, she let out a gasp and a protest but he wasn’t paying attention. He was watching Juliet, and Juliet was turning, deciding she wasn’t doing this, shaking her head. Feeling a weight come down on her chest. She needed out of here, he needed to leave.

With a shake of her head, she moved quickly not saying a word, dropping her half-full mug on the counter with a loud clank. One that shot right through Happy. His jaw tightening further, floods of thoughts and emotions he’d spent the night trying to fuck away now rising in his chest like a sickness.

She was out the door in seconds feeling almost like she couldn’t breathe, his gaze following her till the door shut with a finality she knew wouldn't stick. Scanning the lot she had to make the quick decision to either leave or hide. Spotting Chibs in the garage she decided that’d be her sanctuary.

The sick feeling was still coursing through her body making the sudden throbbing ache of a headache start to bloom behind her forehead. The sun was already climbing too high for how early it still felt. And she wanted to retreat, go home and hide from these feelings, but she knew it wouldn’t help. It would only make it worse.

The garage buzzed with low conversation and the occasional clang of tools. Chibs was inside, voice thick with his accent, low and lilting. He was telling one of the prospects something about a customer's car when she slowed near the edge of the open bay, letting herself linger in the shadow just before the threshold.

Chibs was leaning over a workbench, sleeves rolled up, grease on his hands. His glasses were pushed up into his hair, a cigarette burning in the ashtray beside him. He looked calm, like everything in the world wasn’t teetering sideways, which she guesses it really wasn’t for him.

Sure he loved Jax but he was always one to spin something optimistic till the optimism was gone, none left to give. Juliet stood there for a second, letting the moment stretch, just a breath.

Just long enough for the ache in her chest to settle into something duller. She wasn’t here to fall apart, she was here to keep busy. Still, the ache of seeing her wrapped around him was there, confusing and coiled into parts of her she didn’t know existed before today.

Chibs glanced up immediately, eyes flicking toward her with that quiet, knowing look he always wore. He pulled his glasses from his head, setting them down next to the one he’d been using. Turning and opening his arms.

“There’s the princess,” he muttered into her hair as Juliet stepped into the embrace. “Thought you might come find me.” She let out a soft sigh before pulling back.

“Needed noise.” She told him, as if it wasn’t obvious. He nodded meeting her eyes, trying to read her, knowings she wouldn’t give him much.

“Well,” he said, “you came to the right place.” Chibs turned, grabbed his cigarette, and handed it to her like it was just another day and not the morning after hell. She took it of course and took a long drag, squeezing her eyes shut as the nicotine rushed to her head. He watched her for a second before asking, “How ya doin’, lass, with all this?”

Juliet opened her eyes, swallowing around the lump forming in her throat, she wanted to spill everything. Have him tell her she was crazy, that Happy was dangerous, and that she knew Jax would freak. Except she couldn’t do that, she couldn’t say it out loud, she just wanted Happy to leave so she could toss this all out of her head and pretend nothing happened. Pretend that he wasn’t in her head, pretend she didn’t want him, even if she didn’t know why. Focus on Able, on her family, on being there for them when they need her.

Instead, she took another long puff, forced a smile she prayed he couldn’t see through, and said, “I’m good, gotta be. Jax needs me.” Chibs gave her a look, one she’d gotten a billion times in the years she’d known him. One that said, you don’t need to worry about everyone else all the time.

Chibs knew saying something wouldn’t make her change her mind so he just nodded and said, “He’s strong, he’s got a lot of people in his corner. So does Abel.”

Juliet nodded about to open her mouth to respond when a bike outside roared to life, the only person it could belong to being the man she was currently shoving down in her memory. She shouldn’t have, but she glanced his way immediately, at the blonde standing next to the bike like a fly that wouldn’t leave.

She looked back quickly, maybe a little too quickly, because Chibs raised an eyebrow but said nothing. So she cleared her throat and turned her attention back to him, Abel.

“He was so small, Chibs, I couldn’t go back there last night. It brought up a lot of bad shit, shit I haven’t even had time to process, because-,” she paused for a second almost saying more than she wanted but stopping herself, “because I can’t stop thinking about Abel.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, she had been thinking about Abel,she just so happened to also be thinking about Happy. Something she shouldn’t even be allowing herself to take time on, it was selfish, she was selfish. Her head hurt from the constant spiral at this point and she felt the rumble of Happy's bike in her bones as he tore out of the lot. An echo of the bike left in the wind, settling over her chest.

They stood in silence for a minute, Chibs watching her like she might reveal her true thoughts if he waited long enough. Tools clinked beside them, Someone laughed near the front lot. A radio buzzed faintly in the background, buzzing between static and the faint tune of some old Stones song.

After a couple of moments had passed and the smoke he’d handed her and burnt out, Chibs bumped his shoulder gently into hers. “You need anything, lass, you've got people. You know that right?”

Juliet felt that hit somewhere deep in her chest, so she nodded, not trusting herself to say more than, “I do.”

Chibs looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. Just nodded and turned back toward the bench. She followed, about to pick up a rag when the sound of heavy boots cut through the bay.

Clay was walking their way, sunglasses on, that always present stiffness in his gait like the years were starting to catch up. He paused when he saw Juliet, only for a second.

“Juliet.” His tone was a little clipped, the stress of everything not pardoning anyone, and she straightened slightly.

“Morning.” She gave him a tight-lipped smile, watching him look from her to Chibs. She took that as her signal to head out. So she turned to Chibs and told him she’d find him later before turning back to Clay with a nod.

Juliet didn't wait for more. Just slipped past Clay toward the open garage door, converse echoing softly against pavement as she crossed the lot heading straight for her car. She couldn’t go back inside. Not with that croweater in there, not when she still, deep down, wanted to rip the woman’s pretty blonde hair from her head.

Her mind still clouded with a steady, unreadable gaze pulling at something inside her she couldn’t name. Something she didn't want to name. Why now? Why him? The questions tangled in her chest like barbed wire, sharp and suffocating.

She climbed in her car glancing back toward the garage where Clay and Chibs were moved onto club business before pulling out needing to find anything to do that’d let her breathe.

She was the club’s princess. The steady one when everything else was chaos. The one who kept her head clear, her heart guarded, and her family first. That was what she was taught. That was who she was. Who she was expected to be.

But right now, with every beat of her heart, she felt the rules slipping through her fingers. The weight of all of it latched onto her leaving her raw and exposed.

All she knew was she had to hold herself together. Because no matter what twisted feelings threatened to break through, she could never let herself fall apart.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Chapter 4

Masterlist - Happy x Teller!OC

Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Warnings: MNDI 18+, fluff if it fits your version, smoking, drinking, mentions of croweaters, sexual acts implied

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Authors note: Okay guys this ones a little short! But it's a necessary filler 💛 Thank you all for the likes and repost I'm truly honored 🥹🫰🏻 More to come soon I promise!

Happy wasn’t sure how long he stood there. Just that his jaw had begun to ache from the clench in his jaw, his shoulders were stiff as he fought a war within himself.

He didn’t ‘do’ feelings. Anyone who knew the man knew what he was capable of and from what they knew feelings weren't one of those things. He wasn't built for relationships and love and neither was his life.

He wasn’t big on words, so feelings didn't really connect. Sure he felt things, he was human of course. He felt pain, lust, and many other things but jealousy wasn’t one of them.

Until now, as the green feeling had taken over, mixing with anger. Anger at himself for feeling this way and anger toward Juice for standing too close to someone Happy knew he didn’t have an ounce of claim over.

Anger toward Juliet for showing him a kindness that settled wrong on his chest. For walking away like she’d been lit on fire the moment Juice entered the room. For smelling so damn good and making his brain swarm with the sweet sugary scent that still lingered against his senses like a ticking bomb.

He'd watched her walk away from him like she hadn't shown him a kindness he still wasn't sure what to do with. Like it was nothing, like it was normal for her, and from every word he'd heard about her; it was.

The sound of something breaking outside followed by hollers and laughter was what snapped him from the raging storm in his head. Making him unclench his jaw and turn his attention to the door she had walked out of.

Chocolate waves tied into a messy bun wearing that oversized SAMCRO shirt he’d silently wished was his before cursing at himself in his head. What the hell did she do to him?

One interaction and she was in his head like a mantra. He wanted to know more, no, needed to know more about her.

Distracting, that's what she was, distracting.

Letting out a low huff that almost sounded like a growl in his gravel tone. He grabbed the bottle she had used to pour them a drink. Deciding it was his before taking a heavy swig directly from the bottle.

The alcohol burned but it still wasn’t enough to dilute the feeling radiating through him. The thought of her walking away too close to another man, to go be alone with said man, made him wanna break something.

So downing another quarter of the bottle before turning toward the sounds of the party still going on outside. Deciding he needed something to outweigh the emotions she had embedded simply by being herself.

So he pushed through the door, the cold air kissing his heated skin, a welcome feeling as he scanned the crowd. Eyes landing on a blonde croweater giggling and dancing, with a beer bottle in her hand.

She looked nothing like Juliet, that was his first thought, an unwelcome one. His jaw tightened again as he pushed the thought down, heading straight toward the woman he knew was gonna be in his bed by the end of the night.

She was short but not as short as Juliet, black stiletto heels making her almost shoulder height as she turned smiling wildly at the man. Her hair was long and straight, hanging above her well-endowed chest. She was dressed for her role. Low-waisted jean shorts that barely covered her ass paired with a cheetah print tank top that sat above her belly button.

Her breath was coated with alcohol as she greeted him stepping into his space with ungentle touches and rushed movements. Making him wish it was Juliet once more, immediately feeling more rage, and cursing the woman in his head. Happy rolled his eyes but grabbed her hand turning to pull her toward the apartment in the back of the clubhouse.

Where he tried, and failed, to forget the crystal blue eyes and sweet scent of Juliet Teller. Even in bed with another woman she had moved into his head and he didn’t know if she was leaving anytime soon.

So he buried himself in the distraction taking solace in the fact that tomorrow, he'd be back on his bike heading toward Tacoma.

Across town in her little apartment, Juliet was trying and failing to do the same. Willing the man from her thoughts well attempting to keep up with the plot of the movie Juice had put on.

Juliet barely remembered the drive back to her place. Abel had been in the back of her mind like a dull ache she couldn't shake. But as she pulled up with Juice rolling in behind her on his bike. All she could really feel was Happy Lowman's gaze burned into the back of her head.

She hadn’t stopped replaying the way he looked at her, over and over, the way his scent enveloped her making her feel drunk. The smell of his cologne mixed with the faint metallic smell of blood.

He was stuck in her head, and no matter how much she wished he wasn't, she was afraid he wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

Juice had waited until they were fully inside to finally ask, the inevitable question she knew was coming. She had just come back down the hallway in pajamas and bare-faced. He was setting out their drinks and popcorn when he decided then was better than any other time.

"Okay," Juice had said after a few seconds. "Are we gonna talk about the shirtless elephant in the room or am I supposed to pretend you weren't really close to Happy Lowman? Well, he stared at you like a piece of meat?"

Juliet blinked and flushed a whole different level of crimson that had made Juice grin.

"I'm just saying," he had added, taking a sip of his beer before continuing. "You've definitely never offered to rinse off my knuckles after a fight."

She gave him a deadpan look and shook her head. "That's because you whine like a toddler when you get a cut."

"Yeah, well, Happy looked like he'd let you stitch him up with your teeth if you asked nicely."

"Jesus, Juice," Juliet muttered, passing him to settle on the couch. Mind flooding with thoughts that only aided the burn in her cheeks. "It was nothing."

"Uh-huh. Sure." He’d mocked in a sing-song voice before he moved, taking her avoidance as a sign to stop poking. Juice knew she wouldn’t say more than she was ready to. So he gave up and plopped onto the couch like he owned the place. That was where he still was, boots left by the door, socked feet tossed up on her coffee table.

Juliet sighed softly leaning her head back against the back of the couch. Zoning back into the room

The movie was still playing and a warm breeze was creeping through the cracked side door. The room was dark, except for the glow of the TV and her fairy lights, which didn’t do much. Juice is on beer number two chowing away on the, now, cold popcorn. The smell of the salty snack mixed with the sweetness of the candle burning on her coffee table. And Stevie was curled up between the two. Cinematic screams echoing from her TV.

She was still thinking about Happy. And she didn't know what the hell to do with that. Paired with guilt about this being where her mind was when Abel was still fighting for his life.

So she shook her head, turning her attention back to the ridiculous horror movie rolling across the screen, the synth music loud and cheesy, the lighting bad on purpose.

"Is that the guy from that dumb vampire show?" Juliet asked, breaking the long stint of silence she had embarked on. Juice shifted next to her, looking her way. Before he squinted at the screen.

"I think so. Except now he's playing a high school gym teacher possessed by Satan or something. What great range."

She huffed a soft laugh, the corner of her mouth twitching at his sarcasm. "Incredible depth."

"Oscar-worthy," Juice deadpanned.

And for a moment it was easy, for a little while. To sit there with someone who didn't expect her to explain the thousand thoughts ricocheting around in her head.

Juice filled the quiet with his usual commentary, cracking jokes about the dumb decisions the characters made, throwing popcorn at the screen like it helped. Juliet knew she’d be the one to clean it up but she couldn't bring herself to care.

She snorted when he yelled "Don't go in the basement, you absolute idiot!" and he grinned, triumphant. Happy to have made her let loose even for a moment

But the truth was, her mind never stopped moving. And it wasn’t long before the thoughts started creeping back in.

Abel is still there. Small and fragile in that glass box, fighting for every breath.

Then mixing with something else that had wedged itself into the corners of that grief. Something unexpected. Something rough-edged and ink-covered.

Happy.

The way he looked at her was like he saw something under the noise. Like he wasn't afraid of the sharp parts of her. Like Juliet Teller was just Juliet and not everything that came with her last name.

His stare was burned into her memory right alongside Abel's fragile heartbeat. She hated it. Hated how her stomach flipped when it shouldn't. Hated that she’d noticed his tattoos, his scars, the way he never flinched. How this feeling came out of nowhere whatever it was.

She didn't know what that meant or what to do with the feelings pinging around in her head like a game of pong. All she knew is it wouldn't stop clawing at her.

So she didn't say any of it out loud. She buckled down and bottled, the habit ingrained in her genes, and the only thing she could do.

She was grateful Juice didn't ask again.

He just passed her the popcorn again without looking and muttered, "We're definitely not sleeping after this dumbass demon thing starts crawling out of vents."

And Juliet couldn’t help but smile, because even when everything was falling apart, this? At least she had this.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Chapter 3

Masterlist - Happy x Teller!OC

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Warnings: MNDI 18+, Cussing, Tig being gross, fluff if it fits your version, smoking, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, angst, fighting

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Authors note: okay so I wasn’t sure how to go about this! If this is absolutely not good tell me! I love feedback of all kinds 🫰🏻

Almost an hour had passed when the silence started to feel suffocating, like it was pressing in from the corners of her apartment. Stevie curled in his usual spot on the couch, purring low.

She hadn't moved much, just sat there on the edge of the couch, elbows on her knees, eyes unfocused, all thoughts surrounding the little life at St. Thomas. When the silence started to scream, she shook her head and forced herself up.

The decision wasn't loud. It didn't slam into her; it just settled. She needed noise and her people.

So she headed down her hallway and into her closet, stripping off her clothes and swapping them for a fitted black long-sleeve, soft against her skin. Then, an old SAMCRO shirt from the bottom drawer. It was worn thin, the ink faded from too many washes. Juliet didn't remember who she stole it from, but the smell of oil was still intertwined within the fabric.

She pulled it over her head. The hem hits mid-thigh and fits more like a dress than a shirt. Then, a pair of black tights underneath, completing the look with thick socks and the heavy platform boots that make her feel grounded.

Flipping off all but the kitchen light, she glanced back once before leaving. Stevie didn't move, just kept sleeping on his throne of pillows.

"Don't destroy anything," she called, anyway, locking the door and heading down the stairs. She slid into the driver's seat, started the engine, and pulled away without even thinking twice.

She refused to be that girl who sat alone in her apartment, crying. Not tonight. Tonight, she needed to be back where the music played too loud, where the whiskey poured like water, where the boys would still be hanging around pretending they weren't waiting for news.

Tonight, she needed the club, her family.

And she also needed to forget, even if only for a moment, that the tiny baby she already loved with her whole heart might not make it.

The lot was dim under the soft California night, but the familiar thrum of voices, laughter, and the muffled hum of music made it feel alive.

She pulled in slowly across from the row of bikes lined up like soldiers.

The crowd outside the clubhouse was thick with echoes of laughter. Warm light spilling from the windows, cutting against the night.

"Juliet!" someone called. Kip, lifting his beer in greeting. She smiled at him with a small wave. A couple of guys whistled, one croweater calling her "Miss.Teller," who Juliet gave a lazy smile, letting their voices wash over her without really sinking in.

Spotting Jax near the crowd, standing with Clay and Bobby. He caught sight of her instantly, his shoulders loosening a little. She crossed the space, smiling at everyone who greeted her. Her usual princess mode is back in action, like a mask that clicked perfectly into place.

"Hey," she greeted, and Jax pulled her in without a word, wrapping her up in an embrace the siblings both needed.

"You okay?" Juliet asked softly, pulling back to look up at him.

He gave a small nod. "Getting there."

She nodded, letting her arms fall from his before stepping back. The second she did, Clay leaned in to say something low in Jax's ear, Bobby nodding along. She knew whatever it was wasn't meant for her ears. So she slipped away, letting herself drift through the crowd.

Juice was standing by the makeshift wrestling ring they'd set up under the canopy, arms folded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"They've been at it forever," he said when Juliet slid up next to him, glancing her way once. "Tig's trying to prove he still has cartilage in his knees."

Shaking her head, Juliet let a laugh break through the tension in her chest for the first time since Gemma pulled into the lot that morning. Looking toward the ring.

Happy was shirtless inside, sweat glinting off his inked skin, fists up, moving like he was carved from stone. Tig was grinning wildly, swinging wide, but Happy barely blinked. His hits were clean and measured, making her pulse skip.

She didn't mean to stare, but, for a second time, froze, caught in motion, watching the sweat gleam across his tattooed abdomen like a person stranded in the desert seeing water.

For a long second, she forgot where she was. Brain empty, except for him.

She just watched Happy move. There was something brutal and honest about him, like he didn't waste energy pretending to be anything but exactly what he was.

He glanced toward the edge of the ring, catching her eyes, making Juliet more flustered than she liked to admit, and she didn't quite understand at that moment.

She dropped her gaze, heat crawling up her cheeks and warming the tips of her ears. Her fingers curl around her elbows.

Then Clay's voice cut through the noise and whatever trance the man had put her in. "Break it up."

Bobby climbed into the ring, pushing the two of them apart like rowdy kids, but they didn't fight it. Tig clapped Happy on the back, both men hugging one another, breathless and smiling.

A smile that made her already beating a heart skip another round.

Tig moved and leaned over the ropes. "Whose shirt, sweetheart? Cause I got one for you if we're wearing whatever?"

Snapping back to reality, she turned a little, raising a brow. "In your dreams, Tregger." She sassed, releasing her elbows to put her hands on her hips. Adding sass to the retort, not seeing the way Happy's jaw tightened, even if he also didn't understand it.

Tig laughed. "Oh, every night, baby, every night."

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head as Tig moved on, climbing out of the ring in search of alcohol and whatever crow he could find.

But when she looked back, Happy was watching her now, unblinking, making her breath catch in her throat.

And suddenly the air felt heavier. Like something had shifted, and Juliet wasn't sure what it meant yet, but she felt it, low in her stomach.

And for the first time since that morning, Abel wasn't at the front of her mind.

She blinked and looked away, forcing her gaze from the ring like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Her stomach tightened, and a different type of nervousness she hadn't felt in a long time settled over her nerves.

She turned back to Juice. Who was still talking, animated and leaning into the memory of a punch Tig had almost landed. Juliet tried to focus on his words and pull herself out of the foreign feeling taking over her body. Tried to let his familiar voice smooth over the part of her that had just come awake without warning.

"—he swung so hard he nearly took himself off his feet. I swear to God, I thought his knees were gonna give out," Juice said, laughing.

She smiled like she'd been listening, one that didn't meet her eyes. Her mind now filled with thoughts of dark eyes and rippling abs, something buzzing behind her ribs.

She'd seen Happy before. At runs, before church, that one party where he'd parked himself by the keg and barely spoke a word. Maybe they'd exchanged a couple of lines in passing, but nothing that ever meant anything.

He was always quiet. One of those guys who was there, but never really looked at her. Not like she was anything besides Jax's little sister or Clay's stepdaughter. The club's princess, tucked safely behind the Teller name.

But tonight she was noticing him, not just seeing him, but noticing.

And worse?

He'd seen her.

She could still feel the weight of it under her skin. The way his eyes hadn't moved, hadn't flinched. Like he'd clocked something in the woman no one else had noticed, and that didn't help her building nerves. Now entirely for a different reason.

Crossing her arms over her chest, forcing a breath through her nose, she willed the heat in her cheeks away.

"He's good," Juliet said finally, cutting into Juice's ramble as she nodded toward the ring where Happy was climbing out. Trying to act normal, pretending the man hadn't rattled her with one look.

Juice followed her gaze. "Happy? Yeah. Guy's a machine. Got that calm-psychopath vibe down pat."

"Didn't know he was coming," She uttered, as casual as she could manage. Looking at the tattooed man again for a second before looking away again.

"Yeah. He pops in and out depending on what Clay needs. Been here more often lately, though. Something with his Mom or Aunt."

Juliet nodded like it meant nothing. Like she wasn't filing away every detail.

Juice gave her a side-eye, paired with a knowing smirk that didn't help the warmth in her cheeks.

"What?" She asked too fast.

He shrugged, innocent, a playful edge to his tone. "Nothing. Just watching you suddenly care about Happy like it's a hot topic."

Elbowing him lightly, she mumbled, "Shut up."

He grinned. "I didn't say anything. You wanna talk about it, I'm all ears."

"I don't."

"Noted."

But even as she laughed, brushing him off like always, she could feel it again.

That damn itch.

That quiet flicker of something she hadn't planned on noticing, rooted now somewhere beneath her skin.

And for the life of her, she couldn't tell if it made her nervous or curious.

"I'm gonna go find Jax," Juliet told him, already backing her way out of the situation. Juice hollered that he left, and she just waved at him half-heartedly, still wanting to escape his prying look.

So she turned toward the clubhouse. Heading inside, where it was now quieter, dim. That low hum of the neon beer signs and the muffled creak of the jukebox still spinning some forgotten track. The crowd is thin. Mostly everyone was outside or gone, the air inside thick and still, and it only grew when she rounded the corner to see him.

Happy.

Still shirtless. Standing behind the bar, off to the side, looking for something to use to clean his hands. His tattoos stretched across lean, hard muscle. Each line was like a story she wanted to learn. Her eyes fell to the garden of Smiley faces, jeans dipping dangerously low on his hips, not helping her keep her composure.

Shaking her head at her thoughts, she scolded herself internally. Stopping to take in the blood-stained wrap still around his knuckles.

He didn't look up, didn't have to. He felt her before she stepped fully into the room. Action mode setting in, she didn't say anything. Just moved behind the bar like it was second nature, grabbed the Jameson, and poured two shots. One for him. One for herself.

He finally looked at her when she slid his glass across the bar. Face unreadable. Just those sharp dark eyes staring down the bar at her, watching her in a way that made her skin prickle.

He took the glass without a word and downed it, Juliet doing the same. Glancing at his hands, torn knuckles, bruising already blooming. So she rounded the bar, reached for a fresh rag, soaked it in warm water, and walked over like it meant nothing.

"Let me see," her voice was softer than he expected. Sweet and melodic. He didn't argue. Just held out his hand like he was used to taking pain in silence. If his reputation was true, he was.

Juliet stepped closer. Close enough to smell the sweat and smoke on his skin, mixing with a cologne that flooded her senses. Heat radiated off his chest, off the ink that curled around his ribs like armor.

Juliet swallowed and unwrapped them before wiping away the dried blood slowly, careful not to press too hard, thinking that even if she did, he probably wouldn't flinch.

Happy's jaw was set as he looked down at her. Watching her be gentle with him of all people, biting her lip, well, she focused, making the man wanna reach out and tug it from between her teeth. He didn't, of course. Then he noticed how she smelled like something sweet, but he couldn't put his finger on it just yet.

And she kept her eyes on the cuts, refusing to look up, to admit how aware she was of the way the light hit his shoulders, how still he stood, how different he felt up close like this. Her mind was swarming with his scent, almost intoxicating.

Juliet finished wrapping the last of his knuckles, tucking the gauze neatly like she'd done it a hundred times before. Fingers brushing light against his calloused skin, lingering long enough to make her chest tighten.

"There," She hummed out after clearing her throat, voice steady despite her nerves. "Good as new." Looking up, giving him a soft smile, praying he didn't notice the pink in her cheeks.

He didn't say anything. Just gave a slow nod of thanks, dark eyes steady on Juliet like he was trying to figure her out.

Feeling the weight of his gaze, she shifted away before the look could sink into that untouched place.

She busied herself by rinsing the rag in the sink. The water ran red and then pink, the slight scent of copper reaching her nose.

Happy was still watching her, cold and calculated, and she turned back toward him, trying to hide her shaking fingers.

She pretended she was steady, like nothing had changed, and the smell of him wasn't clinging to her senses. Like this wasn't clawing up from deep inside her. A new, gnawing itch that she couldn't name. A pull that just so happened to choose the worst time to tether itself to her heart.

He stayed where he was, watching the rise and fall of her shoulders, not saying a word. Just there, shirtless and bruised, the embodiment of everything she didn't have time to figure out right now.

Clearing her throat, she moved at the same time he did, both of them reaching for the same pack of smokes on the bar counter. Their fingers grazed once more, and her breath caught, making her silently hope he didn't notice.

But he did, pulling back and gesturing silently for her to go first. She smiled, a soft pink painting her cheeks, sheepishly, and something inside him shifted.

Skin still buzzing, Juliet grabbed the pack, pulled one out, and extended it to him. He accepted it and pulled his lighter out, lighting his and then offering it to her the same way she had the pack.

The silence filled in around them as they both inhaled. The low hum of a jukebox still spinning was the only sound, making the tension in the air more apparent.

He was still there, a few feet behind her. Taking puffs from his cigarette, eyes boring into the side of her head, a look she was trying to ignore, just like the change of pace in her chest.

She didn't look back, couldn't. Whatever was clawing at her chest didn't have a name yet, and she wasn't about to give it one.

She was trying to be helpful, like she would for any of the guys. Except that the intimacy was new, unexplored territory for both of them.

Happy stepped closer, about to open his mouth,

when the door creaked open behind them. The crowd's rowdiness was a blip in the sound, then muffled again.

"Am I interrupting?" Juice's voice broke through the heavy quiet as he came around the corner, spotting them, only a step or two away from one another. Both were still silently puffing on their cigarettes. He clocked everything in an instant. The ridged stiffness of Juliet's shoulders, she didn't notice she was holding, and the way Happy was too close, not even glancing at him, eyes still locked on the club princess.

Turning quickly like she had been burned, heat finding home in her cheeks at this point. She didn't dare glance back at Happy even though his stare burned into her back. "Nope. Just cleaning up."

Juice raised an eyebrow at Juliet, the slight shake in her voice only he'd notice, then glanced at Happy, who remained perfectly still.

Towering over Juliet, one arm loose at his sides, knuckles wrapped now, chest rising slow and steady like he wasn't feeling something too.

He was a killer; he wasn't meant to be feeling whatever it was he was feeling.

Juice looked between the duo again, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

"Well," he said, eyeing Juliet and then cautiously doing the same to the man behind her, "I was gonna see if you wanted to go back to your place. Watch that new horror movie?"

"Yeah," She responded too fast. "Yeah, let's go." Moving away from Happy quickly, wanting desperately to sober up from the scent of him.

She swallowed once, turning and finally meeting Happy's eyes. His gaze didn't move from watching her. Jaw set a little tighter at the assumptions already filling his mind about the brunette and his brother.

She gave him a small, tight smile. "Night, Happy."

He didn't smile back. Just gave her a single, sharp nod.

Juice clapped a hand on the bar once. "Night, man." Happy gave him the same nod.

She didn't look back as she walked out with Juice, the cool night air hitting her face like a reset button, doing only a little to calm the lingering heat.

She could still feel Happy's stare down the back of her neck. And Juice? He didn't say anything right away.

But Juliet knew better, by the grin forming on his face, that he was gonna be asking questions when they got to her place.

Except she didn't know if she could answer whatever he'd ask, cause honestly, she didn't know herself.

And she didn't know that back in that bar, Happy Lowman was feeling a feeling he'd never felt before. Jealousy. And he didn't know why.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Chapter 2

Masterlist - Happy x Teller!OC

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Warnings: MNDI 18+, Cussing, anxiousness, hospital, mentions of drugs, smoking, mentions of violence, mentions of medical things, NICU mentions, enotionally heavy, mentions of death

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Author Note: I’m sorry, if this is a little slow, I promise Happy is gonna be mentioned soon 🥰

The doors to Labor and Delivery flew open, banging against the walls with a stomach-aching force. The heavy mix of boots, shoes, and Gemma's heels collectively pounding against the linoleum and echoing through the sterile hallway.

Jax leading the pack, Clay tight behind him, the rest of them not far behind. The smell of antiseptic hit Juliet hard. A smell she could feel in her teeth, reminding her too much of her little brother.

The disgusting taste that started in her mouth continued to linger as Juliet looked around the hallway, still following the pack. She hated hospitals, with a passion, the long, cold hallways and the faint stench of bleach that clung to the air. It took her back to a time she didn't wanna linger in, but she knew she had to be there for Jax.

Well, her mother filled the men in on what she had found at the house Jax once shared with his now ex-wife, Wendy. They all shared the same look, anger. The brunette hadn't caught what they said, focusing too much on where she was. But Jax's face said enough, his jaw tight, teeth clenched, and a storm brewing behind his blue eyes.

Juliet stayed back half a step, knowing she couldn't add anything to the conversation as the men carried on. The grief of the situation settled on her nerves like a live wire. It was too bright in here, and Juliet was trying to ignore the weight that began to form on her chest. Then the double doors at the far end of the hallway swung open.

A woman stepping through in teal scrubs, brown hair pulled back tight. She was older than the woman remembered, but the recognition landed hard in her chest.

Tara.

It had been almost ten years since Juliet had seen her. She looked sharper now, more sure of herself, the soft edges of her youth replaced with something she couldn't place. Juliet hadn't even known she was back in Charming. But clearly, her brother had.

Jax stepped forward, the weight of this hanging onto his words. "Tara, what's going on?" She didn't soften when she saw him. Her voice was all doctor, no history, despite the heavy weight of what the two shared that never quite went away.

"When's the last time you saw her?" She was asking about Wendy. Making Jax blink hard, caught off guard.

"Couple weeks?"

Tara nodded once, clipped. "Her hands and feet were full of tracks. Toxicology hasn't come back yet. Most likely crank."

Jax's breath left him like he'd been punched in the stomach. The tension in the room was growing thick around them. Juliet moved closer, arms wrapped tight around herself. Not realizing she was holding her breath until Tara glanced at her, the same recognition flashed behind her eyes, before she looked back to Jax.

"We had to do an emergency C-section," she started. "But, he's 10 weeks premature." Jax looked like the floor dropped out from under him. His eyes searched her face like maybe she'd take it back. She didn't.

"Holy shit." Juliet couldn't help it as it slipped from her lips. The pair glanced at her before they went back to looking at one another.

Tara reached out and touched Jax's shoulder. "Come on, let's sit down."

"Just tell me," Jax said bluntly. Gemma moved, putting her hand on his shoulder. Reaching out her hand to Juliet, she took a step toward her mother's side.

"He's got a congenital heart defect and gastroschisis, a tear in his abdomen. The gastro and early birth are from the drugs, but the CHD is probably-" Tara explained before Gemma cut her off.

"The family flaw." She said with an affirming tone, her hand flying from Jax's shoulder to the scar on her chest.

"Yes, it's genetic," Tara continued. "Either one would be serious but not life-threatening. The two of them together, though." She trailed off, making the teller woman's chest tighten with uncertainty. "Dr. Namid gave him a 20 percent chance. And I'm afraid that's being optimistic." She gave Jax a sympathetic look. One that only made the man's shoulders sag further with an invisible weight. And just like that, the whole world shifted.

Juliet felt something fold inside her, a tight, invisible thing that encased all the air in her chest. Her throat burned, thoughts filling her brain like a swarm of bees. Buzzing about her head like it was a hive. Abel, her nephew, she had been excited to meet for months. Now, he is only a few hours old and fighting for his life.

"Oh my god," Gemma muttered, turning away from the pair to cover her mouth with her hand.

"She never wanted to talk to me. I didn't know." Jax said, in a serious, defeated voice, directed at Tara.

"Her OB says she hasn't been to her appointments in weeks; nobody knew," Tara said, slipping from her doctor tone to a more comforting one, trying to reassure the man, but the wheels were already turning behind Jax's eyes. "Dr. Namid wants to fix his belly first, then once he stabilizes, go in and fix his heart. I'm so sorry, Jax, I can take you to see him now." Tara turned to push through the double doors, him following a step behind her.

"Tara." Saying something Juliet couldn't hear before he turned, determination and rage painted his features. Shoulders squared, fists clenched as he took off toward the exit. His steps were heavy and final.

"Jax," Juliet turned, calling after him, but he didn't stop.

"Jackson." Their mom followed sternly, but he told them to go with Tara and kept walking.

Chibs exchanged a look with Clay, and before Chibs even said a word, Clay nodded. "Go. Watch his back."

Bobby and Chibs both followed, boots echoing down the hall, catching up with him as he pushed through the doors and out of sight.

Gemma let out a shaky breath. Somehow looking older, like something had knocked the wind out of her, too. She didn't chase after Jax. She just looked back at Tara.

"Can we see him?"

Tara gave a small nod. "Yeah. Come on."

She turned without waiting and led Gemma and Juliet through the first doors and down a quieter hallway, past another set of heavy double doors. Doors she remembered from childhood checkups and foggy visits to this hospital, ones for the same heart problem that took her brother and is now trying to take her nephew. The walls here were painted soft blues and greens, like they were trying to calm you down before you had a reason to cry.

Juliet stayed close behind Gemma as they reached the NICU. The doors opened with a hiss, and the world changed.

Everything was almost quieter here. The beeping was rhythmic, steady, a soft lull in the silence. The air was cold and clean, in a way that felt clinical rather than comforting. The lighting was soft, but still, everything felt too bright. The room itself was still, as if it were holding its breath. And there he was.

Able.

So small, tucked inside a clear incubator because he was too fragile for the world outside it. Wires and tubes connected to his fragile skin. To his chest, his nose, his tiny arms. A blue knitted cap covered his head, and his thin skin was covered by a hospital blanket.

Juliet froze, breath catching in her throat. As if her throat wasn't burning before, it certainly was now. She wanted to cry, wondering how anyone could want this for their child. Feeling an anger of her own growing in her toward Wendy.

Gemma stepped forward slowly, her hand going to the glass."Oh, baby." Gemma whispered. Her voice broke. "My sweet boy."

Tara stood near the monitors, checking a chart, her presence calm but firm.

"He's stable for now," she said softly. And started explaining more to Gemma, but Juliet didn't hear much after that.

Eyes locked on her nephew. On his impossibly tiny chest, rising and falling with the help of machines. On the way, his fingers twitched, like he was already fighting even though he didn't understand what that meant. She moved closer, standing beside Gemma, Tara slipping out, leaving them behind, in silence that felt deafening.

A knot formed in her throat so tight it hurt to swallow. Fingers curling into the hem of her skirt, trying to anchor herself, trying not to cry in front of her mother. But it was useless. A tear slid down her cheek, searing against her heated skin, despite the chill of the room.

Placing a gentle hand on the incubator where the plastic curved up and away. Not touching him. Just close enough to feel it.

"Hi, Able," She whispered, voice shaking. Wiping quickly at her cheek and pretending like the tear hadn't even been there, she couldn't ignore the ache in her chest. Or the record in her head telling her she needed to leave.

She gave Abel one last long look through the glass, wishing she could give him something. Strength. Warmth. Anything.

She had to get out of there, the weight pressing in on her shoulders, making her feel like the walls had begun to close around her. She wanted to stay, but she knew that if she did, she would be sick.

"I'm gonna head back to the clubhouse," Juliet decided quietly, stepping back. Her voice was soft but strained, and Gemma noticed, of course, she did.

Her mom didn't look away from the incubator. Her hand stayed pressed to the glass like she was willing herself through it, too. "You okay, baby?"

She nodded, though it took more effort than it should've. "Yeah. Just need a minute." Gemma still didn't move. Just nodded understanding fully, she knew how her daughter felt about hospitals.

"You need anything before I go?" Juliet asked, still needing to help even when her mind was telling her to get out of there.

Gemma finally turned just enough to look at her with bloodshot eyes that softened around the edges. "No, sweetheart. Go ahead. I'll stay with him a while."

Juliet gave her shoulder a final squeeze, then turned and walked out. Converse echoing against the smooth white floors. Not looking back till the warm sunlight hit her face. The second she passed through the exit, she was pulling a cigarette from her purse, cursing under her breath.

"Shit." She had ridden with Gemma. She hadn't thought about it until now, meaning she either had to find a ride or go back inside and wait.

Turning toward the parking lot. Some of the guys were still there. She muttered a thank god under her breath, moving toward them. Inhaling the smoke deep into her lungs, hoping it would help to calm the buzzing in her nerves.

Clay and Tig were deep in conversation, and Juice had his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder, leaning against his bike, picking at the edge of his helmet strap mindlessly.

Walking up slowly, clearing her throat, she dragged all their attention to her with a "Hey."

They all looked up at once.

Their eyes landed on her face, which probably revealed more than she'd like. Juice stood up straighter. His brows knit together. Snapping his phone shut and setting his helmet on his seat.

"Everything alright?" Clay asked, pushing himself up from leaning against his bike.

Nodding once, biting the inside of her cheek, thumb tapping nervously against the end of her cigarette, she said. "Yeah. Just," she turned her head, gesturing toward the doors she had just walked out of. "Uhm, Mom's staying. I need a ride back to the lot." Clay gave her a look and nodded.

"Juice, take her." He said, turning to the tan man. Juice nodded once, already stretching his helmet out to Juliet.

"Yeah, of course," Juice responded as Juliet grabbed the helmet from him, hitting her cigarette one more time before tossing the half-smoked butt to the ground, snuffing it with the tip of her shoe.

Clay stepped closer, straightening the helmet she had put on her head, then putting a hand on each of her shoulders. "Get some rest, sweetheart. We'll call." He pulled her in, kissing her forehead, and she gave a tight smile and a soft, "I will," before turning back to Juice. She wouldn't.

Juice tossed a leg over, his bike settling in so she could climb on behind him. She nodded a thanks to Tig and Clay before tossing her leg over and settling onto the back of his bike.

Clicking the strap of the helmet around her chin, she tucked her purse into the saddlebag. The bike roared to life beneath them. The familiar rumble wrapping around her as she grabbed the sides of his kutte to hold herself steady.

She didn't say it, but she was glad it was him. Juice always knew how to sit in silence without making it feel heavy.

The ride back was quiet, wind against her ears the only thing disturbing the silence, a kind of silence that settles heavy on your skin instead of your bones. Juice didn't say anything, knowing she couldn't hear him if he tried. His presence was steady, like always. Something Juliet was grateful for in the moment, not knowing how long she could hold herself together if he had asked.

When they pulled into the lot, the bikes were back. Most of them, anyway. A few guys lingering near the garage, smoke curling into the air, voices low, movements slower than usual. All of them are feeling that grief.

Juice killed the engine and offered Juliet a hand so she could slip from the bike, not that she needed it, but he did it anyway.

She didn't say a word as she unbuckled the helmet, handed it back to him, and pulled her bag out. He watched her for a second, something soft in his eyes, before asking. "You okay?"

Juliet weighed the question, tilting her head from side to side, like it'd make the answer less true. "Not really," she replies honestly, offering him a small, worn-out smile. "But I will be."

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek like he wanted to say more, inevitably deciding not to. Then he gestured toward the clubhouse.

"Some of the guys are gonna be around later," he said casually. "Figured we'd drink, hang out. You should stop by."

Juliet looked toward the club, then back to him, hesitated, and rang her fingers together. The thought of loud voices and laughter felt too far away from where she was mentally, but maybe that was the point.

"I'll think about it," She said quietly, patting his shoulder. He gave her a small, understanding smile and tapped the top of her hand.

"Doors open, Jules." She smiled softly, giving him a nod, then turned toward her Pontiac. The sun had begun to dip lower in the sky, casting the lot in long shadows. Everything felt slower, quieter.

Climbing into the car and shutting the door. She just sat there for a moment, fingers resting on the steering wheel, heart still back at St. Thomas with that tiny boy in a glass box. The car was warm from the sun, smelling of leather and smoke, mixed with the same scent she couldn't place at home.

Letting out a deep breath, she turned the key. The car sparked to life with a steady purr, low and familiar. Checking her mirrors and putting it in reverse, she backed out, shifted into drive, and rolled out of the lot. Juice's offer still echoing in the back of her mind.

She didn't know if she'd go back tonight. Wondering how this morning feels so far away from the current moment. But she knew she had to feel this.

The drive home felt longer than it should've. Charming blurred past the windows; the same cracked sidewalks, same corner stores, and cheaply decorated lawns from her childhood. But it all looked different tonight, like someone had washed the town in gray.

She kept one hand on the wheel, the other hanging out the window, cigarette burning between her fingers. She wasn't really smoking it, but the habit of holding it helped, even if only a little. The wind pulled at her hair. Still, nothing shook the weight in her chest.

She pulled up to her apartment just as the sun dipped behind the hills. Pontiac rumbling to a stop, headlights sweeping over the familiar cracks in the curb. She let the engine idle a moment, reluctant to shut off the sound. It was the only thing keeping her from thinking too hard in that moment. But eventually, she killed it.

Grabbing her bag, she stepped out onto the pavement and headed upstairs. Stevie was waiting in the window, his black tail flicking like he knew something was off, smart little shit. Always did have better instincts than most humans.

"Hey, Trouble," Juliet said softly as she unlocked the door. "You miss me?"

He didn't move, just blinked slowly, like he was forgiving her for being gone. She dropped her bag on the coffee table and slipped off her Converse, abandoning them by the door, laces still tied together. Moving to sit on the couch, letting her head drop into her hands. A second later, Stevie leaped up and curled into her side, all warmth, weight, and comfort. Letting out a purr to show he was happy she was home.

Leaning back, she rested one hand on his furry little head, bringing her other hand up to rub at the tension in her neck. The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the faint ticking of the wall clock. The pink and orange do the setting sun, illuminating the space.

Leaning forward after a couple of minutes to grab another cigarette, she forced herself up to crack the side door. Leaning against the doorframe and looking out. The breeze that drifted in was warm and carried the scent of asphalt and distant cut grass. Somewhere, a dog barked. A motorcycle revved, and life kept going on.

Still, her mind stayed locked in that NICU room.

On the look on Jax's face when Tara told him about the baby. On Gemma's hand against the glass. On the way, Abel looked so small and surrounded by too much machinery for someone who was new.

She took a long drag, watching a car drive by as she exhaled slowly. Trying to keep things from unraveling, the way they always did when grief pressed in too close.

She ran her shaking free hand through her hair, glancing at the small accent table in the corner, next to her record player, where pictures and trinkets decorated the surface. To the picture of her, Jax, and Thomas when they were little, before everything.

Juliet, of course, was tough. She has a way of compartmentalizing. Except when stuff like this made it hard for her not to remember how she felt. Her father and brother had always been a touchy subject, especially Thomas. The survivor's guilt of making it through an illness her brother didn't survive was something she spent a long time working through.

Juice knew that. He had a way of seeing through her, even if she hated it, which is why he invited her back to the club. She knew that if she sat too long, the weight of those thoughts would creep into her darkest edges, the ones she worked hard to keep hidden.

Everyone she was close with knew she tended to overthink, a bad habit she's had since childhood, always worried about others' feelings first. But they didn't know how serious the darkness could get, and she wanted it to stay that way.

So she huffed out a deep breath, turning to glance at the clock. It was still early enough to stay home if she wanted to. But she wasn't sure she wanted to stay.

Stevie let out a soft meow and butted his head against her leg like he was reminding her she wasn't alone.

So she turned back into the quiet. In the half-lit little apartment, wrapped in the comfort of fur, smoke, and silence.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Chapter 1

Masterlist - Happy x Teller!Oc

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Warnings: MNDI 18+, Cussing, Tig being gross, fluff if it fits your version, smoking, drinking, mentions of violence, goofiness

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Author Note: Hi! So I have been working on this for a long time and finally figured out where to start 😊 I love love love feedback and thank you so much for reading. Bare with me this is going to start slow but we’ll get there.

Juliet Teller was many things. Kind, smart, and sharp-tongued, but among those things, she was also not a morning person. That was an apparent fact as the sun had already begun rising over the rooftops. Sending soft streams of orange and yellow through her sheer curtains. Leading a path to the bed, way too big for one person, where she was nestled into the middle of her grey sheets; a soft rumbling ball of fur curled up next to her.

That was the first thing she noticed as she slowly gained consciousness. The purr of her fury companion, Stevie, a black cat with a personality big enough to match his owners. She groaned, low and gravelly, voice still caught in sleep, reaching blindly for the little lump of warmth.

"Morning, handsome," she mumbled, fingers finding the soft fluff of Stevie's side. He rewarded her with a sleepy chirp, purring louder, but didn't budge.

Blinking against the light, eyelids heavy, crusted a little at the corners. She reached up rubbing at them with the heel of her hand, dragging the fog away. Her body ached in that familiar, lived-in way, like she'd fought something in her dreams and lost.

Letting out a breath she finally pushed herself upright. Her tank top had twisted in the night, one strap hanging off her petite shoulder. Reaching up she tugged it back into place lazily wiping a hand down her face. The air was cool against her skin, and she couldn't help the shiver that slipped up her spine. Shifting again Stevie let out a meow of discontent at Juliet swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. The movement tousling the grump of a black cat.

Her feet met the wood floor, warm where the sun had touched it, cold where it hadn't. Juliet sat there for a second, elbows on her knees, head in her hands. Giving herself the moment to come to terms with being awake before stretching, arms up, fingers spread wide, back arching until she felt the pull all the way down her spine. Giving a satisfying pop.

She yawned again with her rub at her eyes. She could still feel sleep clinging to the corners of her consciousness, blinking hard until the world sharpened. Stevie hopped down with a soft thump and padded to the window, his tail curling like a question mark.

Juliet followed a second later, standing slowly, every joint aching with reluctance. Her muscles protested, hips stiff, shoulders sore from sleeping crooked, but she was up. Barefoot, heavy-limbed and already compiling a to-do list for the day.

The black cat follows his owner, of course, as she trudges into the kitchen. Performing her typical morning routine; coffee first, then a cigarette lit while it brews. Juliet leaned a hip against the counter, eyes still half-closed, breathing in the familiar mix of smoke and coffee paired with something sweet she couldn’t quite place.

Once the coffee was done she filled her favorite mug, prepped her coffee the way she always did before carrying on with her routine. The balcony called like it always did, second floor, just high enough to watch the world pass without quite being part of it yet.

The brunette settled into her old lawn chair mug warm in her hand. Stevie followed her path before jumping up and curling in her lap like he owned the place, which, let's be honest, he kind of does. She absentmindedly ran her hands down his back and over his tail. Receiving soft chirps in response.

Sipping her coffee, the cigarette burning between her fingers, she took a deep breath before taking another drag. The mid-morning light makes everything softer. Even Charming feels bearable at this hour.

When her coffee began to run low and her cigarette was burnt she finally abandoned her spot carrying Stevie and her mug back inside.

Her apartment wasn’t much. A one-bedroom; with a compact living room, one bathroom, and a kitchen she couldn’t fit more than two people in at once. It was little but it was hers, a little sanctuary, one she escaped to when life got a little heavy. Dropping her feline companion down in his favorite spot on the couch he let out another mew of discontent. Then moving on to put her mug in the sink before carrying on down the hallway. Stretching again as the coffee finally shook the last legs of sleep from her body.

Opening her closet, she didn’t overthink it. Pulling on her favorite black crop top, the one with the old Fleetwood Mac graphic and the rip near the hem. Underneath a denim vest that is worn in, soft at the edges, and paired with a black skirt that falls mid-calf and swishes when she walks. The signature Chuck Taylor’s she had since high school pulling it all together.

Her hair was in its usual mess of curls, but in that intentional way. Falling in waves down her back, dark and wild. A few rings, some bracelets, and the necklace her father gave her when she was little and she’s done.

Stopping to give herself a once over she ran her hands down her skirt. Not being able to stop the chuckle at the thought flooding her brain. Sunshine wrapped in denim. That's what Tig called her once. The club's little slice of light, all wrapped up in black and blue. She liked that.

Stevie was still sprawled across the couch, tail flicking when she descended back down the hallway. Shaking her head as she started gathering her things.

"Lazy little shit," She hummed, not unkindly. "Hold down the fort."He didn’t move, just blinked slowly like Juliet was disturbing his peace.

She shook her head again at the little goblin and grabbed her keys from the counter; where they lay next to her phone. Stopping at the coat rack to toss her tote bag over her shoulder before stepping out the door with the intention of heading to Teller-Morrow Automotive.

The drive wasn't far from home, a couple of blocks and she was pulling into the already buzzing lot.

Her Pontiac purring up to the curb in front of the garage, her black paint catching the light just right. Parking across from the line of bikes, Jax's Dyna right up front like always, proud and unapologetic.

Cutting the engine before tossing the door open Juliet stepped out, converse hitting the pavement with a satisfying clunk. The heat had progressed in the short time it took to get there. Wrapping around her like a dry warmth that settles on your skin, reminding you you’re alive.

Only one of the garage doors was open; one of the newer prospects, Kip Epps, was already working on a customer's car. Juliet had taken a liking to the younger man, as the two were close in age. The club members called him Half-Sac, an endearment the girl refused to take part in.

She smiled and waved when he looked up, giving her a lopsided grin. He was an awkward one but somehow that made her like him more.

"Morning Jules!" He called across the lot far too cheerful for the woman who hadn't had her second cup of coffee yet. She rolled her eyes but let a small smile pull on her lips.

“Morning Kip.” She shook her head at the slight blush that tinted his cheeks as she kept walking. Heading straight for the doors that lead inside.

Entering the clubhouse it smelled like home; if you count sweat, whiskey, and old wood home. Which she did, all of that paired with the faintest trace of whatever cleaner the prospects used that somehow never really worked.

Juice was the first thing she saw, hunched over one of his computers at one of the tables with a headlamp strapped to his forehead like he was about to explore a cave system. The sound of tapping and frustrated muttering met her ears. Stopping to lean against the open wall enough for him to see her she cleared her throat.

"Seriously?" Juliet beamed, smirking. "What, are you going to the mines after this Juicy?”

Juice rolled his eyes, then glanced up with that guilty, caught look he always wore like a second skin. "You’re just jealous.” He rebutted saying it with another roll of his eyes.

"Or maybe, "She hummed, strolling further into the room," you just have a flair for the dramatics. That headlamp is giving me secondhand embarrassment. Seriously.” She let the laugh bubble in her chest knowing he was used to her teasing.

Juice and Juliet had been close since a little after he was fully patched. The two were like brother and sister, in the playful way her and Jax didn’t exactly have anymore, always teasing and picking on one another.

He flipped her off and pulled the headlamp off, abandoning it on the table beside him. "It helps me focus."

"Uh-huh.” She teased heading to the bar. Where Bobby was already propped up on one of the stools, guitar in his lap, strumming something low and lazy. He didn’t glance their way, just shook his head at their antics.

"You two ever gonna admit you're secretly in love, or should I start writing your duet now?" he asked, voice like gravel and honey. Juliet and Juice both gave each other a small look of disgust before the women let out a fake gag.

"Gross, maybe you can play when me and Tig finally tie the knot.” She joked. Juice choked on a laugh and Bobby just grinned and kept playing.

Dropping her bag on the bar she took in the mess from whatever it was the guys did the night before simply expecting it at this point. She was never expected to clean but she always did. No matter how many times her mom and the guys told her she didn’t have to, it was how she helped, and she had to help.

Grabbing a rag from the cabinet behind the bar she immediately started cleaning it, both Bobby and Juice returning to their previous activities. The latter without the headlamp, was not made for the task he was doing.

Then the clubhouse door creaked open again just as she was pulling cold bottles of beer from the fridge. One for Bobby and one for Juice. She turned, peering around the corner to see Kip and another prospect whose name she didn't remember, both struggling under the weight of a huge, taped-up cardboard box.

"Where the hell are they going with that?" She asked Juice, crossing the room, never taking her eyes off the duo.

"Probably something we'll regret asking about," Juice said, accepting the cold beverage not looking up from his laptop. The box hit the floor with a thud and Kip slid it under the pool table, making Bobby's guitar skip a note. "Half-Sack Piney clogged the toilet again."

Kip wiped his forehead with the back of his arm looking disgusted, "Jesus Christ. That guy shits like a Grizzly. It's not human."

The new kid blinked. "Damn. Hey,” he turned, curious, dumb as a box of rocks, "how'd you get the name Half-Sack anyway?" Juliet didn't even need to look at Juice to know he wore the same look of disinterest. "Oh, here we go." She muttered, lowering herself into the seat next to Juice.

Kip perked up like a golden retriever being told he's a good boy. "Oh, that's a story," he said, puffing his chest a little. "See, when I was overseas—"

Juice stopped typing. "Don't do it, Man.” Already knowing exactly where the man was going with this.

"There was this grenade, right? Got a little too close to the family jewels."

"Dude," Juice said, warning sharply now, but it was too late. Half-Sack had that gleam in his eye and his fingers on his belt buckle.

"I lost one in the blast—"

"DUDE!" Juice protested, slapping a hand over her eyes. "There is a lady present!" Juliet couldn’t help but laugh proclaiming she wasn’t looking. The door slammed open at that exact moment, the sound echoing through the clubhouse like a gunshot. Clay, Chibs, and Tig came in mid-conversation, but froze the second they caught sight of Half-Sack with his pants halfway undone.

"What the hell!" Clay's voice was sharp, full of authority and disgust. "Oh, put that shit away!" he barked, throwing his hands up.

"Christ Almighty," Chibs muttered, eyes immediately flying to Juice who still had his hand clamped over a giggling Juliet’s eyes. "There's a lady in the damn room, ya feckin' idiot!"

"Still covered!" Juice called out."Trying to protect her from the trauma!"

"I'm fine," She said behind a laugh.

"Goddamn circus in here," Clay muttered, already heading toward the bar. "No wonder nothin' gets done." Kip scrambled to zip up, tripping over his own excuses, while the new kid just looked mortified, probably reconsidering his whole life. And then there was Tig.

He sauntered past the chaos like none of it was even happening which wasn’t unusual for the curly-haired man. He gave Juliet a once-over as she pushed Juice's hand from her face, that crooked grin already forming.

"Well, well," he said, voice low and teasing. "You wear that skirt for me, Juliet? 'Cause sweetheart where have you been all my life?" Juliet didn't blink just rolled her eyes.

“Well, that would be cradle robbing Tiggy." He gave her a mock wounded look, hand over his chest. Something he'd done often since she turned 18. Almost 10 years ago.

"You wound me."

"She should," Bobby called from his stool. "You're a pig."

"Gross, man," Juice added shaking his head. Juliet crossed her legs used to the antics at this point. Smiling warmly as Chibs mutters something about killing him under his breath.

Clay just turned around with that exhausted, growly tone only he could pull off. "Seriously?"

Tig raised his hands in mock surrender. "What? I'm just sayin' she looks good. Ain't my fault she grew up hot." That earned him a swift slap upside the head from Chibs a smack echoing through the room.

"Watch your mouth, ya creep." The Scotsman scolded.

"I'm complimenting the outfit!"

"You're lucky she doesn't deck you herself," Juice said and Juliet just smiled shaking her head, this was it.

Her chaos. It was loud, foul-mouthed, bloody, and violent; but it was also love and loyalty and it was hers.

Clay looked around the room with that deep scowl he always wore. With just one flick of his eyes toward Chibs.

"Find Jax," he said, voice low and final.

Chibs didn't waste a breath. "JACKSON!" he bellowed as he disappeared down the hallway. The whole energy in the room shifted making Juliet force herself up, wanting to find soemthing to do to be useful, returning to the bar.

When Jax rounded the corner from the apartments in back tapping their dad's bike that sat at the end of the hallway. Before walking into the room, his jaw was tight, fingers flexing slightly like he wanted a cigarette. A habit the two shared. His eyes met Juliet’s as all the patched started moving toward the chapel.

"Hey," he said stopping short of the sacred room. Juliet ever the baby sister smiled waiting for his next words. "You staying? After, I wanna talk." His tone pulled at a thread in her chest one she knew well.

"Yeah, of course." She nodded giving him a tight smile. He returned it following the others into the room.

Piney was the last to join them, oxygen tank clinking slightly behind him. He muttered something about the prospects and smacked Kip across the back of the head.

"You move like you're drunk and stupid, boy," Piney grumbled, wheezing slightly as he passed.

"Good to see you too, Piney," Juliet said picking up her rag from earlier with the intent to keep cleaning, while she waits for Jax.

"Better be," he replied, pointing a finger at her like a threat. "This place'd fall apart without you Teller woman keeping it from growing moss." He gave her that smile that pulled on her heartstrings. A smile that reminded her of her father's.

"Prospects," Clay barked again. "Get outta here." Kip elbowed the new kid, both of them scrambling like someone had lit a fire under their ass. The door creaked open, sunlight streaming in just long enough for their silhouettes to vanish through it.

Juliet watched them go. Then she heard the faint clack of the cigar box hitting the pool table. Every man drops their phone in with a soft finality.

The chapel door slammed shut behind them. The silence afterward was total. It always sounded like something locking into place. Juliet turned slowly, the weight of that sound pressing down on her chest.

Returning to the tedious action of wiping down the surface. The wood beneath her hands was warm and covered in tacky rings, cigarette ash, and that same old crust of forgotten spills that never seemed to come off.

Feeling the itch for another cigarette in her hands she grabbed her bag fishing for her half-empty pack of Morleys. Pulling one out and lighting it with her lighter that was tucked into the pack. Before deciding to abandon cleaning, cigarette in one hand tossing the rag in the sink with the other, and deciding it was time for that second cup of coffee. Taking a long inhale the tip burned red, smoke curling up into the air, dancing with dust motes.

Slinking around the bar she moved toward the kitchenette, still puffing on her cigarette, hoping the guys hadn’t used up all of her hazelnut creamer. She found the pot half full and smiled filling the first mug she found pouring creamer on top. The sweet smell of hazelnut mixing with smoke.

Juliet returned to the bar climbing onto a stool nursing her coffee and finishing the last couple of hits of her cigarette. Alone in the stillness. With a kinda clean bar, a burned cigarette, and too much silence pressing in outside of that chapel door.

Juliet finished the cancerous stick and stubbed it out, humming the same old Fleetwood Mac tune into her coffee, when the chapel door creaked open.

She didn't turn right away, just stopped humming and listened. Boots hit the floor in slow succession. Voices low, clipped. Jax came out first, and when she turned, his face was unreadable. The others followed: Clay with that iron-bent jaw, Bobby and Chibs mid-conversation, Tig smirking about something he probably shouldn't be, Juice closing out the rear, quiet again. Piney stumbled behind them, huffing under his breath, and heading straight out the door.

Jax started toward her and she spun on her stool about to open her mouth until the monitor above them flickered with movement. That movement paired with the wail of a horn as Gemma’s Cadillac tears into the lot like it was chasing fire. The horn echoes off the metal of the garage doors like drums.

Juliet’s stomach dropped and her Jax exchanged a look as Juice looked up, pointing to the monitor. The women following Jax outside before the car was even in park.

"Tried calling you!" Gemma's voice was sharp, cracked at the edges as she flew out of the car. Her heels clacked hard against the concrete, leaving her door wide open, sunglasses still on but crooked, her phone in her hand.

Her children met her halfway. Both wearing the same look of confusion. Jax’s hand reaching out to steady her elbow. "What is it?" She pulled off her sunglasses. Her eyes were wild.

"The Baby," she said, breathless. Juliet’s stomach curled into knots as she looked to her brother. Jax didn't move at first. He just stood there, blinking like his brain needed time to catch up to the words.

Clay stepped closer, eyes narrowing. "Where is he now?"

"St. Thomas," Gemma said, voice breaking properly now.

Jax finally moved. Like something snapped inside. He brushed past all of them like he couldn't hear or see anything anymore. He just climbed on his bike and fired it up. Pulling out of the lot.

The men turned to follow him all climbing on their respective bikes. Following behind him. Juliet closed the little space left between her and her mom, grabbing her arm. "Let's go, I'm riding with you.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

1

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The sky was a soft gray. Painted with dark clouds heavy with rain that hadn't started to fall but was sure to come. The air was thick with the smell of earth rolling in though the open patio door of the small cottage style home. A fluffy german sheppard was trotting around the small yard not a care in the world. Tail wagging and tongue hanging from his mouth. Inside Amelia Crow, Mia, was padding around the kitchen collecting files she'd left on the island the night before. The coffee pot on the counter next to her gurgled slowly filling the room with a rich and bitter smell. It was early and Mia had always been an early riser, the clock on the stove read 6:34, and she was already showered, dressed and almost ready to leave for work. She was dressed in her usual type of work attire. A pair of brown slacks that hugged her waist,with a tanish orange button up that's sleeve puffed just the slightest. She had buttoned the sleeves near her elbows, black vest overtop that she had tucked into her slacks that were rolled at the ankle. For shoes her favorite pair of black and white high top converse. Her blonde hair was pinned back falling loosely around her shoulders; two pieces of hair falling to frame her face. She was just finishing tucking the files she had collected into her bag when she let out a impatience huff glancing at her watch and then to the coffee put that was only half filled. She brushed her hands on her pants, a nervous habit, before stepping around the island into the small living room that was connected. Outside thunder grumbled a verbal warning that the rain was soon to fall. She let out a low whistle once she stepped up to the screen door. Kenai, her trusty dog's ears perked up at the sound turning to look at the blonde as he came barreling across the yard and into the house. His tail wagging back and forth as he pranced about at her feet excitedly. She let a hand fall to his head ruffling the fur.

"Good Boy." She smiled, leaning down to kiss his fury head. Then closing the sliding glass door. Another deep rumble of thunder rolled overhead and Mia glanced toward the clock thinking to herself that she really need to go. She didn't want to get caught in the rain. Heading back to the now full coffee pot, the slap of heavy paws following her. She poured some into her favorite travel mug. Topping it off with a little hazelnut creamer before screwing the lid on. She gathered her bag from the counter slinging it over her shoulder and tucking her phone into her back pocket. She checked one more time that she had everything, grabbed her mug and keys, then headed for the front door.

"Be good buddy, Alison will check on you later." The multicolored dog who had found his favorite spot on an old yellow armchair watched her go before curling up.

Mia locked the door moving down the small path to her driveway where her old sedan sat. It was a black 1990 Mazda CX-90 that her dad had gifted to her when she graduated high school. It had seen better days but it got her from point a to b so she wasn't complaining.

The drive to the office wasn't far from Mia's house and by the time she was exiting the elevator already ready for her second cup of coffee it was 7:15 according to her watch. She was early as always so when she walked through the glass doors she was met with empty desks. She could see Hotch and Gideon both in their respective offices where she expected to them to be. She crossed the small room toward her desk that sat across from Spencer's. She dropped her bag on the center of it not even bothering to sit down and veering for the little office kitchen where she poured herself more coffee before heading straight back to her desk. Too anyone onlooking her desk was neat and tidy; but to someone who knew her it reflected her personality like open book. Her papers were stacked neatly in a divided shelf, next to it a family picture from the day she graduated college. Her mom one side of her and her dad on the other. Her little brother stood infront of her, arms wrapped around him and her older brother stood next to her dad. If you asked she'd say it was the last family picture they had, but honestly it was just her favorite. Next to it was a tiny crow figurine Garcia had gifted her. Then her little desktop lamp nestled next to another picture. This one was of Kenai sitting on the same armchair he was surely still sleeping in back at her house. Her computer was tucked in the corner and on the other side a picture of Mia, Garcia and JJ on one of their outside of work excursions. Then a pencil holder filled with colorful pens and markers next to her name plaque that read Dr. Amelia Crow in all caps. It wasn't nearly as decorated as Penelope's but it was hers. Mia was settling into her chair pulling her files from a bag when the glass doors to the room were pushed open and Spencer Reid walked in. The young genius was fumbling through his bag looking for something. His hair was slicked back and he was dressed in a white button up, rolled at the sleeves. Over a pair of black slacks. His tie was black to match his pants, it was slightly crooked. Soemthing Mia noticed immediately as she looked up as he finally found whatever he was searching for in his bag.

"Morning Mi." He chimed setting his bag on his desk. She smiled up at him saying good morning back.  Tapping her files against her desk before placing where they go and relaxing back into her chair. Spencer had sat down and started doing the same letting out a long yawn he attempted to muffle.

"Long night?" She hummed in a joking tone and he looked up with a sheepish look. "What'd you stay up reading this time." Mia loved listening to Reid ramble, she found his thought process refreshing. She never met people who loved books and facts as much as she did until she met Spencer. Although their sets of knowledge were quite different they filled in the gaps for one another.

"I was reading a psychoanalytical study of the effects of LSD on people diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder." He replied. Mia had always found interest in the fact Reid researched for fun. "Since the 90s the use of psychedelics in biomedical research has been on the rise." Mia nodded along, she had studied similar research when she was in Psychology. "LSD was actually discovered by a Swiss Chemist."

"Albert Hoffman, right?" She questioned listening to him continue on about the paper. They continued to talk as the bullpen came to life. The overhead lights that were only half on had lit up. Agents and administrators slowly trickling in. All of them immediately finding something to do. The room was now filled with clacking keyboards, ringing phones and quiet chatter.

JJ was the next member of their team to arrive soon followed by Garcia. Both whom were now congregated near Mia and Spencers desks. It was now 8:00am and Spencer was showing Mia, JJ, and Garcia a magic trick. Physics magic as he had called it.

Reid who had made the three women turn around to set it up was now grinning wide and placing a little film canister on his desk. Mia shook her head with a smile wondering how this where morning ended. She watched the little film container pop away from its lid flying through the air and smacking Emily dead in the forehead.

"Ah, what-" Emily stopped in her tracks hand flying to her forehead and Spencer immediately started apologizing well the women tried to not laugh and failed. "What was that?" She asked confused. Mia snickered into her hand.

"Don't you recognize a rocket when you see one?" Garcia jesteted at the raven haired women.

"I- I was merely demonstrating a physics law I- I-I didn't mean to hit-" Spencer started to apologize again but Emily cut him off now eager.

"Oh, show me?" she grinned joing the others behind him.

"Turn around, please." Spencer instructed turning slightly to look at Emily.

"Turn around?" She asked in confusion.

"Yeah, he's not gonna show you." Mia said waving her off turning around knowing arguing with him on this was pointless. She has tried when she first started.

"A magician doesn't reveal his secrets." Spencer said matter-of-factly. Mia smiled to herself shaking her head slightly.

"But I thought you said it was physics?" Emily challenged.

"Physics, Magic." Spencer responded.

"Trust me. It will not do you any good to argue with him." Garcia said turning Emily with her hands.

The film fizzled as he placed it back on the desk telling the quartet to turn back and observe. It bubbled and gurgled for a second or two before it shot up flying across the room again this time landing right in front of the groups boss. Mia and the others cringed. Turning away attempting and failing to look busy. Hotch looked down before picking it up.

"Physics magic?" he asked a now sheepish looking Reid.

"Yes, sir." The sheepish man responded.

"Reid, we talked about this." Hotch said in a semi-scolding tone.

"I'm sorry, sir." Spencer apologized catching the film canister his bossed tossed him.

"Really starting to get some distance on those." Hotch cracked a rare smiled before heading up the stairs next to Mia's desk toward his office. Spencer beemed proudly.

"So he does have a sense of humor." Emily jokes moving toward her desk still holding all her stuff she had walked in with.

"Sometimes." JJ said with a small smile picking up the file she had set on Reids desk. Mia moved around Garcia patting her shoulder as she passed. She plopped into her chair. Emily who had she'd her jacket and was now pulling stuff from her bag noticed their missing co-worker.

"Hey, where's Morgan." She asked.

Mia turned toward her sipping her coffee as Spencer responded. "In Chicago."

"He goes there every year for his mother's birthday."Garcia informed her. It was easy for Mia to forget that Emily was still new to the team. Emily nodded at the new information and sat down. Garcias phone beeped and she excused herself and JJ headed to her office shortly after. Leaving Mia, Emily and Spencer to their own work.

Mia was now lost in paperwork on her computer, tapping mindlessly at her keyboard. Spencer was reading soemthing his eyes raking across the page incredibly fast as he flipped through the document. Emily was checking a message on her blackberry.

The day was short and mostly filled with paperwork and by the time Mia had made it home the clouds had disappeared leaving behind blue skies. She had just settled into her chair with cup of tea when her phone rang. Listening intently to the person on the other line after answering her eyes went wide. She immediately jumped into action at the message.

Morgan had been arrested. They were going to Chicago.

[lemonsugarstoriess]

Prelude

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Mia remembered the day she met Spencer like it was yesterday;

It was rainy, not much different from how it had been in New York when she left to drive to Quantico that morning. She was a bundle of nerves as she entered the building, handing over her ID to the security at the front. She'd been in this building before during her time at the FBI academy; but never on the floor the Behavioral Analysis Unit worked out of. After getting her visitor's badge, she quickly found the elevator. She had memorized the details of this meeting multiple times over and immediately clicked the button for the floor she needed. She huffed out a breath of air. Checking her outfit again, which consisted of a white button-up blouse, black slacks, and a black suit jacket overtop, she then fixed her hair once more, nervously. She didn't think she had ever been this nervous before, and it was making the elevator ride feel longer.

She didn't really know what to expect, but when the doors opened and she found an open hallway, it felt almost anticlimactic compared to how she had imagined it. It didn't stop her. She pushed forward, smiling politely at anyone she passed, and went through the double glass doors. She was early. It was 7:35 according to her watch, and her meeting with Agent Hotchner wasn't until 7:45, but Mia had always liked to be punctual. She scanned the open bullpen. There were a couple of desks, mostly empty, given how early it was. Still, the room had a quiet hum to it. The clack of the agent in the corner's keyboard keys, a phone ringing on a desk that was still dark, and a brown-haired agent sat at his desk close to the stairs who hadn't looked up from whatever he was working on. The faint smell of coffee clung to the air, and she took it in, eyes raking along the wall till they fell on the plaque that read Aaron Hotchner, hung next to a closed office door. She smiled to herself, letting her eyes wander back to the brunette, now muttering to himself, clearly lost in his own world. She moved across the room, clutching her bag closer, checking her watch again. She climbed up the short set of stairs that led to the office she needed, taking one more deep breath before knocking.

Unbeknownst to her, this is when the brunette

man from before, whom she'd soon learn to be Dr. Spencer Reid noticed her standing at his superior's door. He watched as Hotch stood from his chair and opened the door, greeting Mia, who smiled brightly, extending her hand.

Aaron shook her hand before he stepped back, letting her into his office. Where he conducted the interview. The two discussed her achievements, cases she's worked, and her dad, whom she learned Agent Hotchner had worked with previously. They discussed why she wanted to be a profiler and why she thought she'd be a good fit for this team. Aaron quickly grew to like the girl, and when they were done, he stood, shaking her hand again with a smile. He told her he had to speak with Jason Gideon and he'd let her know his decision. She thanked him for his time and the opportunity before exiting his office. She headed toward the same double glass doors she had entered through, feeling much more confident now. All the nervousness she felt had melted away.

The bullpen was full as she walked through. A dark-skinned man and a black-haired woman now occupied the desks next to the same brunette who had been there earlier. Except now they were all trying and failing not to notice the younger girl. She offered a polite smile on her way through, her eyes landing on the brunette again. Their eyes met. He offered her a smile and a little wave that she returned before she slipped out of the glass doors.

She got the call a week later that she got the job. The following week, she found her small one-bedroom in Virginia. She started the Monday after. She integrated into the team rather quickly. She and Spencer became friends almost immediately, while the others took just as quickly.

That was nearly two years ago, and Mia Crow was now a more than welcome member of the team and completely content; or so she thought.

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*~ The Team ~*

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Derek Morgan

"the protector"

Penelope Garcia

"the loyalist"

Jennifer Jereau

"the trustworthy"

Emily Prentiss

"the newbie"

Jason Gideon

"the wise"

Aaron Hotchner

"the stern"

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*~ The Crow Family ~*

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Thomas Crow

"the father"

Elizabeth Crow

"the mother"

Jackson Crow

"the big brother"

Edward Crow

"the baby brother"

[lemonsugarstoriess]

*~ Kalopsia ~*

(n.) the delusion of things being

more beautiful than they really are

Masterlist

Spencer Reid x My Oc

Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, Mentions of violence, death, guns and Blood, all over the place plot, Fluff, Angst, sloooow burn, cutesy geniuses, rambling

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds; all rights go to the respective parties. I only own my character and her families original plots.

Author Note: Specific triggers for chapters will be listen at beginning of chapter

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Amelia Crow;

Mia to her friends and family

Daughter of Thomas and Elizabeth

Younger sister of Jackson

Older sister of Edward

intelligent, kind, funny

Spencer Reid;

Son of William and Diana

An only child

genius, shy, considerate

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Mia had felt drawn to Spencer Reid since the moment she met him. It was a Tuesday in early April, the day she was meant to meet Agent Aaron Hotchner for her interview. After spending the last year as a homicide detective for the NYPD, she was ready for a change. When Aaron Hotchner himself invited her to an interview, she giddily accepted. Despite her father's push for her not to, she had always dreamed of joining the BAU. That is what led her to meet the BAU's resident genius.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dr. Amelia Crow

"the daydreamer"

Dr. Spencer Reid

"the genius "

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Our Team

The Crow Family

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Prelude

1

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[lemonsugarstoriess]

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The gardens of Crowley Manor were in full bloom. The air was thick with the sweet scents of wildflowers and lavender. The sun had climbed high in the sky, and, with the heat of summer, all the manor windows had naturally been open. A gentle breeze that was no cooler than the air it cut through, slipping through the curtains. The usually dark manor was drenched in natural light that Edith Crowley welcomed. The drawing room was warm from the sun and smelled like tea and lemon cakes. Edith sat with one leg crossed over the other, straight-backed, in an uncomfortable chair. Fingers tapping lightly against the rim of her teacup as she stared out the second-floor window. She wasn't staring at anything in particular, eyes glazed over, mind a million miles away. Hardly noticing the clinking of the tea cup across from hers followed by a voice sharp, familiar, and slightly amused.

"Edi, you're not even listening to me." The brunette blinked back to reality looking at the boy across from her. Theodore Nott, Theo to her, sat across from her with a raised eyebrow and a look of amusement. "Did you hear anything I just said?" He sat forward with a teasing smile knowing she hadn't.

Edith gave him a sheepish grin. "Sorry, what were you saying?" She asked a little pink rising to dust her cheeks. She had never liked being caught in thought. Theo sat back in his chair picking up his cup and taking a slow sip of the hot liquid. Edith watched him and waited.

Theodore Nott was to most girls her age probably one of the most attractive boys in their year. Chiseled features with a sharp jawline, dark curly hair that was constantly hand-swept, pale pink lips always dusted with a mischievous smirk, and dark eyes that looked through her a little too well for her liking. To Edith however, he was just the dorky boy she'd known since childhood who hid behind snide remarks and mischief.

Theo set his cup back on the table with a dramatic sigh. "I asked what you think our fathers are droning on about." He watches his friend as her brows tucked themselves together at whatever thought arrived from what he said. The girl gave it some thought. After all that had happened in the last two years, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"I'm not sure." She replied honestly not knowing what else to say. "Considering what's been going on it can't be good." Theo didn't respond right away. He knew what she meant. They both knew the weight of their reality. Not speaking of it made it feel distant, out of reach. Like it wasn't something impending for them to face.

"You're probably right." Theo leaned back in his chair taking a long sip of his tea and Edith looked down at hers then back out the window. "You're quiet today." He commented, it wasn't a question, more like an observation. She let out a hum, turning her attention back to the dark-haired boy.

"Despite the summer brightness it's felt quite heavy here since coming home." She wasn't offering much of an explanation but Theo noticed the shift in her shoulders. Almost if the weight she was trying to hold up slipped, if only for a moment, then she was back to her usual poised stature. Theo had always been able to read Edith, even if she wished he couldn't. He knew she played her part; poised, practiced. As it was expected of her, a toe out of line was sure to receive punishment. So she nodded along, followed the rules, and kept her chin high as she did it. Truly though his friend was not meant for darkness. She was kind and smart and caring. Not many people knew that version of Edith. He's sure that if he hadn't known her as long as he had he wouldn't know that version himself. She had built her walls high but he didn't blame her, he knew her parents, their opinions, their rules.

"I understand." He knew saying more wouldn't make her feel better. She knew he understood that. That nothing could remove this weight of impending doom that decided her ribcage was a great place to take shelter. Her parents hadn't said anything yet but she was not blind to the alliances they were making. The lines they'd cross to ensure the status of their family remains intact. Edith could feel something coming like a whispered breath against the back of her neck. She knew she'd find herself deeper into their darkness soon. She would never admit it out loud, but she was scared.

"I did overhear mother," she started swallowing around the lump that began to form in her throat. Theo perked up looking at her face but she was looking out the window again. He didn't say anything just waited. Gave her space to say it if she wanted. "That I've been trained perfectly." She sighed meeting Theo's eyes.

"What could that possibly mean?" He was confused and trying to process. What could they have trained her for, she was 16, his thoughts were spinning.

"I have no idea." She said solemnly. She had ideas. Of course, she had ideas. She just didn't want to face the reality of those ideas. Theo was processing, his mind going to the same place hers was. Edith caught her lip between her teeth a nervous habit she hated having. She thought for a few seconds more letting the silence linger which didn't help the despair growing in her gut."Promise me something." When Theo looked up at her silently he was already expecting the grim look on her face.

"Anything." He said brushing a hand through his hair.

"Promise me, that no matter what happens this summer, you'll still be my friend."Her voice was soft and unguarded. He scoffed like it was the most ridiculous thing she could've ever said.

"I'll always be your friend, Edi," Theo said sternly like it was a matter of fact and not to be questioned. She let out a huff that was half laugh and half relief. Then her wall was back up.

"Good. I don't know what I'd do without you to annoy me for the rest of my life." Theo shook his head at her. Solemn to joking. He didn't expect less.

"As if you aren't annoying. Miss 'that's not the proper way to drink tea, Theo.' As if drinking the tea fast is gonna hurt me" He tried to mock her voice but it sounded nothing like her and they both laughed at the attempt. The heavy moment is passing but not quite leaving the room.

"Don't complain to me when you burn your tongue again." She jested picking up a lemon bar, taking half of it, and passing him the other piece. Silence filled the room once more this time a little heavier than before.

Edith ate the pastry slowly mind slipping away again. She didn't know what was to come of her fate this summer but she knew whatever happened it couldn't be good. Theo just watched her for a second before shaking his head and standing up. He paced across the floor toward the open windows where he crossed his arms letting himself fall into thought too.

A loud crack snapped both of them from their thoughts. Edith looked to her left to where Pepper, the Crowley family house-elf, now stood. Theo is turning to do the same.

"Pardon Pepper's interruption madam," Pepper started, her voice wispy and light. "Master has sent Pepper to tell you both he wishes for you to meet him downstairs." Pepper fiddled with her hands waiting for Edith's acknowledgment. Edith couldn't remember a time without Pepper. She had been with the Crowley family since a year before Edith was born.

"Thank you, Pepper." The house elf nodded, bowed her head, and then with a snap she was gone. Theo was already crossing the room as Edith stood brushing her hands along her skirt.

"Ready to go back into the lion's den?" Theo joked slipping his suit jacket from the back of the chair and pulling it on.

"As I'll ever be." She pushed her chair in and headed toward the door. Theo followed her as they made their way down the long hallway, to the grand staircase that led to the foyer. At the bottom, Vincent Crowley stood with Theodore Nott senior. The two were in a whispered conversation that ceased the moment they spotted their children. Theo slid down the railing not particularly caring what the men thought. Edith rolled her eyes at the antics and walked down normally. Hands intertwined in front of her. Her demeanor is now the one expected of her.

"Ah, there they are." Edith's dad bellowed opening his arm for his daughter who stepped into his side. Vincent Crowley was to anyone on the outside, a loving and caring father. There was no doubt he loved his daughter, the pristine painting of her over his desk a clear sign. On the inside though he was harsh, reserved, and very much expected perfection and nothing less. "Did you enjoy tea with Theo, my dear?" Her father asked tugging her close enough to kiss her forehead. She gave him a tight smile nodding before looking to Theo who was now picking at his nails next to his dad. If they had been alone she'd have laughed at his pure look of boredom.

"Yes Father, it was a delightful time with good company." She responded in a perfect, practiced tone. Theo tried to hold his snicker back disguising it with a cough.

"Yes thank you, Mr. Crowley, for the invite," Theo said trying to mask his consistent amusement.

"Of course Theo." Her father released her stepping toward Theo's dad. "Thank you, Nott, for our conversation, we shall see you at the Malfoys in a few days." Vincent held a hand out for the older man to take. Theodore Nott senior was a rough-looking man, with scraggly facial hair and long black curls to match. The Italian lineage is apparent in his voice when he speaks.

"Of course, I look forward to your announcement." Nott stepped back clapping Theo on the back and nodding toward the door. Theo rolled his eyes grimacing at his dad and starting toward the door passing Edith one last look. "Good day, Edith. Look for my owl, Crowley." The older man nodded at the pair once more before following Theo out the door.

"Announcement?" Edith quizzed once they were alone her curiosity getting the better of her. She'd usually never ask her father about his 'business' ventures. 

Vincent turned toward his daughter his expression shifting to a less professional one. Edith watched him run a hand through his thick hair before looking to her. "You'll see my dear." He grinned like he had just won the Quidditch World Cup. "Now can you tell Pepper to start dinner. I need to speak with your mother." She nodded at her father watching him turn away and head up the stairs two at a time.

Waiting until he was completely out of sight she let out a long huff running a hand through her hair. Looking around at the large foyer that now felt bigger in her solitude. She shook her head and started toward the kitchen where she found Pepper already chopping vegetables.

"Pepper already started Miss. I overheard master." The house elf chirped after looking up to see her standing in the doorway.

"Thank you, Pepper. Will you please let me know once it is almost done, I am going to go to my room, I merely need a minute alone." Edith said craving a second to breathe and let the weight fall off her shoulders. The exhaustion of every emotion she was holding back was starting to trickle into her bones

"Of course Miss." Pepper gave Edith a knowing smile and continued to chop vegetables. Edith spun on her heel and headed out the door and across the large manor. Her room was in the east wing, first floor. It was much too large for one person in her opinion but it was the only place she felt like she could breathe. Shutting the door behind her she leaned back against it closing her eyes and letting out a long heavy breath. What announcement would be happening at Malfoy Manor? What could she be perfectly trained for? Why were her parents acting so weird? Edith let out another sigh and crossed the room to her bed sitting on it and lying back. Her dark hair fanned out beneath her and she stared up at the canopy letting her thoughts consume her.

Little did she know that in less than 72 hours she would find out the answer to all of those questions. An answer that would change her life forever.

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First Chapter!! What do we think?

I love love love writing this. I'm trying my hand at writing in a third person pov does it sound good?

I absolutely love Edith and I really hope you guys do too!

Thank you - H ✨

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Masterlist

Next Chapter

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Friends

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Theodore Romulus Nott II

Vincenzo Renoldi Berkshire

Iridessa Leighann Zabini

Viviana Antoinette Sterling

Astrid Marianna Whitmore

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Crowleys

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Vincent Carlisle Crowley

Estoria Rhiannon Crowley

Vincent and Estoria; the parents

[lemonsugarstoriess]

L u m i n a r a

the light of hope that emerges even in the darkest moments, guiding one forward

Masterlist

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Draco Malfoy x My Oc

Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, Mentions of violence and death, Fluff, Angst, slow burn, mature themes, emotional whiplash, Draco being a softy a little bit

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots allined with the Harry Potter franchise. All rights goes to each respective party. I do NOT agree with J.K. Rowlings beliefs or biases. I support all people of all walks of life and belive we all need more kindness and empathy. This book is a work in progress so please bare with me.

I do hold rights to my characters and their plot lines.

Thank you so much and I love and welcome feedback.

Thanks for reading ✨🫰🏻💛

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To which sunshine shrouded in darkness is forced to work against her own morals alongside Draco Malfoy.

"He clung to the luminara, a spark of light flickering in the overwhelming darkness of his life, the spark of light having dark brown eyes and a wit that riveled even his own. He knew now that no matter what happened he had to protect her."

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Edith Odette Crowley

Draco Lucious Malfoy

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The Crowleys

The Friends

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*1

*2

*3

[lemonsugarstoriess]

The Princess’ Killer

Masterlist

Happy Lowman x Teller!OC

Warnings: MDNI!, 18+, Mentions of Violence, Guns and Blood, Smut at some point, SOA plots, Fluff, Angst, Happy being obsessive, slow burn

Disclaimer: I do not own any plots or characters of the Sons of Anarchy Tv Show, I do however own the rights to my oc and her plot lines

Author Note: this is my first story I’m posting to tumblr and I’m not quite familiar with the dynamics of the app, I’m using to writing elsewhere so please forgive me if it looks weird or spaced oddly. I love love love feedback and thank you so much for reading.

Juliet Teller was a living, breathing princess.

She knew it, the club knew it, and the people of Charming knew it. Not in a tiara and sparkles kind of way rather in the way she carried herself with grace and grit, born and raised in the chaos of Teller blood and Redwood Original oil. Kind, caring, and nurturing to the core, she was sunshine in human form. A soft-hearted storm in jeans and leather, always ready with a warm meal, a stitched-up wound, or a sharp word when someone needed setting straight.

She was the best parts of her mother, softened by time and her own stubborn heart. Strong and soft in all the right places. She took care of everyone.

Happy Lowman was nothing like her.

A reaper in the flesh. A hitman who didn't ask questions. Cold hands with an even colder stare, he wore his kutte with deadly pride and lived by the club's code with brutal devotion. Where Juliet brought light, Happy brought silence. Efficient. Unfeeling. Unapologetic. The kind of man who didn't make friends, didn't do soft, and didn't play nice.

At least, not until fate dropped Juliet Teller into his path like a warm hand pressed against a loaded gun.

Lilly Collins as Juliet Teller

David Labrava as Happy Lowman

Season 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (coming soon)