Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction

Clay has an enemy… With two wings and white feathers.

Obnoxious squawking wakes Clay up from the dead of sleep, and he groans, moving his arm upward to cover his eyes.

“The hell?” He grumbles, cracking an eye open reluctantly and peeking out from underneath his arm. That’s when he sees it.

That damn bird. It’s staring at him, taunting him with its beady eyes, its white feathers slightly ruffled.

It squawks again, just as Clay’s falling back asleep. It knows.

“Gemma!” He calls, but doesn’t receive a response from his ol’ lady. “Goddamn it… Gemma!” He tries again, and soon he hears her shuffling back to the bedroom.

“What?” Gemma raises a brow, leaning against the doorway. She’s wearing a robe and slippers, her dark, blonde streaked hair slightly messy. “I can’t even make a damn coffee without you needing me for something? I was starting to think you finally croaked.”

Clay narrows his eyes. “That damn bird,” he grumbles. Looking at the bird accusingly, which is now sitting on its perch, cleaning itself innocently.

Gemma sighs, walking over to the cage and unlocking it, taking the large white cockatoo out, which happily moves to sit on her hand. “Leave him alone, Clay. He’s just hungry,” she says, stroking the bird’s head with her free hand.

“He won’t leave me alone,” Clay responds petulantly. Earning a scoff from his wife, who takes the bird downstairs.

Finally, some goddamn peace, Clay thinks to himself. He tries to fall back asleep, tossing and turning, but of course, he can’t. Perfect.

Clay stands up from the bed, reluctantly pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a black undershirt before heading downstairs. He sees Gemma in the kitchen, fixing breakfast and comes up behind her, kissing her cheek. He pours himself a cup of coffee before heading to the table, and he sees it. The bird, eating from a bowl of seeds. On top of the table. In his seat.

“Don’t start,” Gemma smirks from behind him, placing a plate of food for him at another seat on the table. He just grunts, sitting at the alternative seat and beginning to eat. His old lady is a damn good cook. She always has been.

Gemma sits next to him, sipping her coffee, the mug warm in her hands. She reaches to stroke the cockatoo’s head. Coco. He has a name. Gemma loves birds, always has. They are calm, independent, and free. Even in their life of chaos. Besides… Birds aren’t annoying like dogs.

“You got to handle that shit with the Irish today?” Gemma asks, as Clay stabs a piece of bacon with his fork.

“Yeah. Another gun deal that blew up,” he says, glancing at her and taking her hand, kissing her knuckles.

Coco squawks in distaste, causing Gemma to chuckle, and Clay to glare at the feathered tyrant.

Awhile later, Clay heads back to the bedroom to get dressed. He pulls on his jeans, a black t-shirt, and ties up his boots. He grabs his kutte when he feels something wet against his fingers. He pulls back and that’s when he sees it. Bird shit. Bird shit staining the black leather. This was it. He was going to kill this bird… Or maybe just rehome it, since he really wasn’t in the market to get a divorce.

“Goddamn it!” He yells, his booming voice echoing through the house.

Gemma comes out of the bathroom, where she had been fixing her hair and makeup for the day. She’s wearing a leather jacket and dark denim jeans. “What now?” She watches as Clay wipes his hand on a towel almost aggressively.

“Your goddamn bird shit on my kutte,” he growls, holding up the leather to show her.

Gemma can’t help herself. She really tries not to. But she bursts out laughing. She sees Clay’s face drop when he realizes she’s clearly not as bothered by this absolute tragedy as he is.

“Sorry, baby,” she catches her breath, tapping his chest and taking it from him. “I’ll wash it off. It’s just bird shit. All he eats is seeds.”

Eventually, Clay is leaving the house in a clean kutte, but his pride? It’s still wounded.

After a long day of taking care of club business, Clay is finally home. Clothes are dropping to the floor, and the sounds of Gemma and Clay’s whispers and soft chuckles fill the room. Their bodies are pressed together under the covers, skin against skin, both of them lost in each other’s familiar yet exciting touch.

That is, however, until Clay feels something collide with the back of his head, and a sharp pain in his ear.

“Jesus Christ!” He shouts, pulling back, his hand moving to cover his ear. A bundle of white feathers flies over to the bedside table as Coco lands, an indignant squawk coming from the bird. Gemma, on the other hand, bursts into laughter, the kind of laughter that makes your stomach hurt.

She sits up, moving Clay’s hand away from his ear so she can assess the damage. Luckily, it’s just a scratch, but she moves to get a few Q-Tips and some hydrogen peroxide anyway, disinfecting the cut.

“Damn asshole bird…” Clay winces, letting Gemma care for his battle wound. Once she’s finished, he feels her soft lips press a kiss to his stubbled cheek. Then he sees her petting that traitor, and telling him he’s a good boy.

“You know, sometimes I think you love that goddamn bird more than you love me,” he says, though he reluctantly reaches out to pat its head, offering a truce.

Teller family traditions! A fluffy family fanfic involving Gemma, Nero, Jax, Tara, Abel and Thomas when Fun Town comes into Charming again this year. Set with the show obviously having ended a little differently! Open to feedback and requests!

The sounds of kids screaming, clown horns, and giggling couples fills the air. Fun Town is back in Charming, like it had been every year since… Well, since Gemma could remember. She wasn’t about to age herself.

One of Abel’s hands is clasped in her’s, slightly sticky from the cotton candy he has the death grip on in the other. Tara had insisted that he had already had too much sugar, but Gemma couldn’t resist her grandson when he looked at her pleadingly as they passed the cotton candy stand. It was a grandparent’s job to spoil their grandchildren, right? Besides, she wouldn’t be the one having to deal with him bouncing off the walls later that night. And no, she wasn’t trying to deliberately make Tara’s life miserable.

Jax and Tara are following close behind with Thomas in his stroller, who is babbling and pointing at all the bright colours and strange sounds.

“Really, Gemma?” Tara says as she catches up, raising her brow at Abel who is devouring his cotton candy like he hasn’t eaten in years. Gemma just smirks and shrugs.

“Just makin’ sure you get a master class in parenting tonight, sweetheart,” she retorts. Jax just sighs, and shakes his head. Honestly? Gemma and Tara had been getting along lately. They weren’t best friends or holding hands singing Kumbaya, but it was progress. After Gemma had gotten in that wreck with Abel and Thomas in the car, she had put in some serious effort to earn seeing them back. Luckily, Jax and Tara both saw it.

“Ay mano, avoid the taco stand,” Nero’s voice can be heard from behind the group as he approaches from the porta-potties, looking a little pale. He mumbles something in Spanish about the tacos being an insult to Mexican culture, before clapping Jax on the back, and pressing a kiss to Gemma’s cheek.

“Yeah, brother. We tried to tell you. Everything but the hotdogs and the burgers if you’re willing to take a risk, are off limits at Fun Town,” Jax snorts, clearly amused by Nero’s predicament.

Nero dismisses Jax with a wave. “You eat anything, mama?” He asks, turning to Gemma.

“Here? Please. I haven’t eaten the slop here since I was sixteen,” she says to Nero with a smirk, but presses a soft kiss to his lips anyway. “Think of this as your family initiation,” she teasingly pokes his stomach, earning an unamused grumble.

“Gramma! Look!” Abel pipes up, pointing towards a ride. Gemma looks over and her heart drops. It looks horrid. The spinning. The high pitched screaming. She can practically feel the amused smirks of Jax, Tara and Nero behind her.

“You want to go on that?” Gemma raises a brow.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Abel is practically vibrating with excitement, already tugging his grandmother towards the colourful torture device. Gemma knows Jax and Tara are going to let her take this hit, and tapping in Nero after his run in with Fun Town tacos would just be cruel.

After what seems like forever waiting in line, Gemma and Abel are seated in one of the teacup shaped sections of the ride, a wheel between the two of them to make it spin faster. The ride begins, and Gemma can almost swear that Abel has gained super-human strength, because she’s almost losing her non-existent lunch. However, his excited laughter is contagious, and Gemma makes damn sure that their teacup is spinning the fastest, and that her grandson is having the most fun.

Once the ride comes to an end, Gemma tries not to lose her balance as she stumbles out to her family. Nero chuckles, pulling her into his arms, and Jax and Tara are grinning.

“Jesus Christ, Mom,” Jax laughs, as Tara bends to hug Abel who is running towards her, giggling.

“What? I wasn’t about to let him lose out to a bunch of other kids and their asshole parents,” she says, shrugging, causing Jax to shake his head and chuckle.

“Having fun?” Nero smirks, pressing a kiss to Gemma’s head.

“Oh, of course, darlin’,” Gemma says sarcastically, but leans up to kiss him anyway.

“Hey, look. Bumper cars! I used to love those when I was a kid,” Jax smirks, stuffing the last half of his unfinished hotdog into his mouth.

Then before she knows it, Gemma is stuffed into a cramped bumper car with Abel by her side. Jax, Tara and Nero have their own, but Abel insisted on riding shotgun with his grandma. The cotton candy bribery seemed to be working a little too well. Thomas, still too young to join them, is being amused by Tig on the sidelines, who dropped by just to see how many clowns he could cause to fall into the dunk tank.

Soon, the round of bumper cars begins and Abel is giggling uncontrollably as Gemma crashes their car into multiple others. Soon, Tara crashes her car into theirs, a grin on her face.

“Gramma, get Mommy!” Abel squeals, pointing to Tara. “You bitch,” Gemma says under her breath, but there’s a huge smile on her face and she’s laughing along with Tara and Abel. Gemma had almost forgotten that she could smile like that.

Meanwhile, Jax and Nero are engaged in a full on brawl that seems more intense than any of their other business ventures, crashing into each other.

“Watch it, mano! I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been breathing,” Nero yells.

“Yeah, yeah. Old man!” Jax laughs in response, but it’s clear who won this round when Jax’s car shuts down, followed by a groan from the club’s President. Nero laughs, almost manically, steering away and making a beeline for Gemma, crashing into the back of her bumper car.

“Asshole!” Gemma shrieks, and Gemma Teller doesn’t shriek. But this is the most fun she’s had in a long time. The most fun their family has had in a long time, and goddamn, it’s needed.

Later, Gemma is sitting at home on the couch with Nero. She rests her head on his shoulder and sighs. “That was nice… Even if it was goddamn exhausting. We should bring Lucius with us next time,” she says, sighing softly.

“Yeah, it was. Lucius would love it. Might even beat his old man at bumper cars,” Nero responds with a chuckle, tracing gentle circles on her arm. “It’s good to see you happy, mama,” he whispers.

Gemma has some club business for Clay to attend to, and it’s the worst kind…

Clay is dreaming. Something sweet about shooting guns and plethoras of money. However, a stirring beside him pulls him out of his pleasant dream state. He cracks an eye open, glancing over at his ol’ lady.

“Mornin’,” he grumbles, his voice still thick with sleep. A hum is all he gets in return from Gemma and he chuckles at her clear dissatisfaction with being even slightly awoken from her beauty sleep. Clay wraps his strong arms around her, pulling her close.

“You got club shit today?” Gemma asks softly, melting into the familiar warmth of his muscled body pressed against her own.

“Nah. Shit with the Mayans has calmed down for now. Jax can handle the club for today. I was thinkin’ about spendin’ all day right here. With you,” Clay smirks, his stubble tickling her soft skin as he presses a kiss to her shoulder, his calloused hand running along her side.

Gemma rolls over onto her back so she can look at him, a smirk on her face. “I’ve got some club business for you, darlin’,” she says slyly, her hand reaching up to cup his rough cheek.

“Yeah? What’s that?” Clay’s grin only grows. He knows exactly where this is going, and he isn’t complaining. That is until he hears what his wife says next, his cocky smirk instantly fading. This is not where he hoped this was going in the slightest.

“What?” he says, wanting to make sure that he did in fact hear her correctly, and that this wasn’t some kind of cruel joke. Or even a nightmare. Maybe he was still sleeping?

“I said, Luann and I need to do some shopping. It’d be nice to have an escort… And someone to carry the bags around,” Yup, he definitely did hear her correctly, and that smirk on Gemma’s face wasn’t making the news of this torture she had planned for him any easier.

Clay groans, rolling onto his back and rubbing his face. “Goddamn it, woman. Shopping with you and Luann? I’m a goddamn biker, not some personal assistant. What kind of slow, cruel torture is that?”

Gemma moves to rest her head on his chest, pressing a kiss to it, and looks up at him. “C’mon, baby. Please. I’ll make it worth your while when we get home,” she knows she has him exactly where she wants him.

Before Clay knows it, he’s practically a glorified pack mule. Bags are slung over his arms, and Gemma and Luann are walking ahead of him chattering about who knows what. He makes a point out of glaring at anyone who dares look at him with even a hint of amusement, or at all. His pockets, however, a strong contrast to the weight in his arms, feel lighter since Gemma has been convincing him to buy anything that she likes, thinks she might like, or that she might eventually need. Goddamn this woman.

That’s when he sees her make a beeline for the plant shop, and Clay’s heart drops. He might even be sweating. He groans dramatically, following her inside. There’s no use trying to stop her, shes too far gone.

“Clay! Look at these. They’re beautiful and would look perfect next to my azaleas,” Gemma muses, her pristine black manicure brushing against delicate pink petals.

Clay looks at Luann pleadingly who just smirks sympathetically, knowing better than to get involved in her friend’s marriage drama, moving to look at some flowers across the aisle. He sighs. “Gem, don’t you think we have enough plants at home? We’re practically living in a damn jungle.”

Gemma’s eyes narrow, and she turns to Clay, resting her hands on her hips. “You’ve been enjoying sitting in the greenhouse when you’re sulking and having your morning coffee, haven’t you?”

Then somehow, some way, Clay Morrow, President of SAMCRO, is leaving the store with not just shopping bags, but goddamn plants in his arms. Peonies to be exact, that need lots of sun, and to be watered every 7-10 days… Don’t ask him how he knows.

Eventually, Gemma has decided that he’s had enough of her torture, and they’re home. Finally. Clay has never been happier to see the goddamn front door, and that says a lot. Gemma grabs the plants from Clay’s hands and he puts down the bags with a relieved sigh. He follows her into the greenhouse, which is more of a brightly lit room packed full of plants and lined with windows. He leans against the doorframe, watching as she tends to the blooming flowers, and bright green shrubbery.

He pushes off of the door, and walks up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I got somethin’ to wear. Special for you,” Gemma smirks mischievously, putting down her watering can and turning to face him, her hand moving to rest on his broad chest.

“Oh yeah? I’m startin’ to think I deserve somethin’ special after all that,” Clay teases back, his blue eyes meeting the same hazel ones he’s been goddamn lucky to look into for years.

“I love you,” she says, a soft smile on her face.

“This love is going to kill me,” he responds with a deep kiss, feeling her wrap her arms around his neck. After all she puts up with, it may just be worth it to see her smile. Even if their house is starting to look like an overgrown jungle.