Top Posts Tagged with #clay morrow

For Who You Are - Jax Teller (Part #1)

Part #1

Jax x Fem!Reader!Knowles

Tara x Sister!Reader

Warnings: SOA, angst

Word count: 2,468

Summary: Being Tara’s younger sister who stayed in Charming and you have feelings for Jax. Only Opie and Gemma know about it. Y/n never had a problem with the club or what they do. Unlike her sister.

Authors Note: There’s a part 2 to this and it’s already done!

Masterlist

Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

Part #2

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Hey Baby.” Gemma greeted as Y/n walked into the TM office.

“Hey Gem. How’s he doing?” Y/n greeted back before asking about the broken hearted boy.

“Not any better. Unfortunately.” Gemma sighed.

“I don’t get it. She hates everything about him. She hates everything he cares about and loves. So why does he love her?” Y/n shook her head furious that her sister had done this to Jax.

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

Please do more of happy and his wife. Maybe she actually gets along with Gemma unlike Tara anc they are good friends and she comes to the clubhouse for a lockdown or something and everyone meets her finally and she brings there dog and someone flirts with happy and he gets out in the doghouse again and maybe they could recreate the scene with Gemma and Tara where they shootout the girls tires and maybe it could have a happy ending like he apologizes or something

idk if you take requests but if you do I’d love love love this!!!!!

i am not the biggest fan of this but i hope you like it :/ in my head her and gemma get manipedis together

wait…gemma’s known haps wife this whole time? (og post)

There’s a reason why Happy didn’t want the club to know about her — the exact reason currently happening, actually. If the club knows that means she’ll have to come to lockdowns and she wants nothing to do with that shit. Happy knows she can protect herself. If it isn’t for the baseball bat in her walk-in closet or the guns hidden around the house, it’s her big ass cane corso. The club doesn’t know that, though. Clay doesn’t know that.

“Hey,” Clay had turned to his wife, eyebrows furrowed and a finger tapping the clear glass holding whiskey in his hand. “You ever seen Haps wife at a lockdown?”

Gemma scoffed, leaning against the bar. “I promise you, she doesn’t need to be here. You think that man would marry a woman who can’t take care of herself with all the nomad shit he does?”

His head tilts to a nod. “Yeah, yeah. She should still be here, though, just to,” He waved his hand behind him at the clubhouse full of Sons and their family members. “Be with everyone. We’re family, her included.”

“Baby,” Gemma started, tossing the rag she’d been cleaning the counter off with to the side. “She’s Haps family — not ours. She don’t want nothing to do with the Sons.”

He considers for a minute before turning around and telling Happy to send her over anyways. Gemma mutters curses under her breath while Hap tries to tell him the same thing, that his wife would rather shoot herself in the fucking head than be there. Hap doesn’t try anything over the phone — it’s worthless arguing over the phone. She’ll hang up and block him until he gets home and apologizes…physically, if you know what I mean.

It takes an hour to get her and Cairo, because obviously she isn’t leaving her baby, in the car. She doesn’t say a single word the whole way, just smokes a cigarette out the window and makes sure Cairo stays on the other end of the car so the ashes don’t fling back in his face. The second they arrive she’s leaving the car; not slamming the door because it’s the beautiful cruiser she’s had her entire life. Hap doesn’t even have a car, but if had been his, there probably wouldn’t have been a passenger sideview mirror anymore.

She plops herself right down on an empty picnic bench with Cairo falling right to her feet. Hap walks back inside, defeated, and praying nobody will try to push her into anger any further than she’s already reached while he isn’t there.

“Thought you were gettin’ the wife,” Clay calls out when he reaches the bar. There’s no way he isn’t making it through this without a drink and knowing his woman, giving her one will lessen his consequences a bit. He nods towards the doors, grabbing two glasses and a bottle of the closest gin.

“Smokin’ outside.” He watches the spot where the picnic table is outside, like he can see through the wooden paneling stuck to the wall.

“Alright,” Clay nods back. “Come bring her to say hi, once she’s done.” Hap finally turns his head to look at the man, face as serious as always.

“You try to get her in here, she’ll kill a couple people. Already about to start shootin’ — that ain’t happenin’.”

Outside, she is proving Happy to be correct. Gemma and Tara stand to her back, close enough to watch her head turn to the random woman in a skimpy outfit trying to pick up a conversation, but too far away to hear what she’s saying.

“Oh, shit,” Gemma mutters. “I gotta go save this whore.”

“What?” She hears Tara ask as she quickly walks over to the picnic table.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” God, Gemma forgot how strong that Jersey accent is. It’s been too long. “But you need to stop talkin’ to me before I pull the glock out of my purse, lady,”

“Alright, tiger,” Gem manages to slide in between the two without getting hit by the hand slinging french tips around. She sends the other woman a look that says ‘she’s-not-fucking-joking-leave’ and watches her scamper away. “You’re not one ounce less of a shrew, huh, baby?”

“Yeah, whatever,” She waves off Gemma, who sends her a fond bump to the bicep before sitting across from her.

“Tara,” Gemma waves her the rest of the way over from where she’d already walked. “Come meet Hap’s wife.” She says her name, pointing to the chain smoking woman with a permanent scowl and a dog half her size sitting next to her.

“Don’t fuckin’ call him that when you sit at the same table as me,” She gestures around like she’s offended by the name.

“Come meet David’s wife, then,” Gemma rolls her eyes as she makes the correction.

“Hi,” Tara sends her a tightlipped but friendly smile. “Big dog you got there.”

“Oh, yeah,” She seems to loosen up at the mention of him. “He’s a sweet boy, though, never done nothin’ wrong a day in his life. Huh, baby? Yeah, you behave much better than your father, don’t you?” She turns back to Gemma, the hand holding her cigarette waving back around again. “I mean, come on, he thinks he can make me come to this shit? He’s got a fuckin’ mind of his own, he thinks that. Been with me ten goddamn years, huh, what’s the point if he makes me come here?”

“You’re so goddamned dramatic,” Gemma shakes her head with a grin, like she’s remembering all the other times she’s heard these rants. She watches Happy come back through the door with the fifth of alcohol and the two glasses. “By tomorrow, you’ll be over it.”

She scoffs, tapping her cigarette in the ash tray as she watched Gemma stand back up next to Tara. “Yeah, ‘cause i’ll have had my way with him tonight,” She grins, winking at the two woman as they start to leave so Hap can sit with her.

“You’re in for an ass reaming,” Gemma mutters to him as they pass by.

“Ain’t I always?” He responds, knowing full well, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

#liv writes;*!#soa x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #x reader #soa #happy lowman x you #happy lowman x oc #happy lowman x reader #happy lowman #david labrava #gemma teller #soa x you #clay morrow #tara knowles

don't touch what's his — chibs telford x reader

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

summary tara went to get him. that was all it took.

prompt – age gap, visiting charter, possessive chibs, Scottish accent, tara gets him, makeout warnings – age gap (early 20s/40s), intimidation, suggestive content, possessive behaviour word count – ~3k note – tara said not on my watch and chibs said hold my drink

requests are open :)

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

The Tucson charter didn't come to Charming often.

Geography was part of it — the distance made regular visits impractical — but mostly it was temperament. Different leadership, different energy, the particular friction that existed between chapters that had grown separately and only came together when business demanded it. They weren't enemies. They were just distant in the way certain family members were distant — connected by something fundamental, separated by everything else.

Tonight they were here because business required it. Tomorrow they'd be gone.

You'd been navigating it fine. You knew how these nights worked — knew who to talk to, who to give a wide berth, how to move through a room full of men you didn't know who wore the same patch as the men you did. Charming was yours. The Tucson boys were strangers and you'd treated them accordingly. Polite. Present. Unavailable.

Most of them had read that correctly.

Chibs was outside.

A phone call — club business that needed quiet — and he'd stepped out twenty minutes ago with a brief touch to your arm and won't be long, love before disappearing into the night. You'd been fine. You were always fine. You didn't need him in the room to manage yourself.

The problem arrived about ten minutes after he left.

Young — early twenties, the swagger of someone who hadn't yet learned the difference between confidence and recklessness — and he'd found his way to you with the particular determination of someone who had decided the evening's outcome before it started. You'd been polite. You'd been clear. You'd given him every reasonable signal that the conversation was finished and you weren't interested.

He hadn't taken a single one.

"Come on," he said, for what felt like the fourth time, still too close. "I'm just talking to ye."

"And I've told you I'm not interested," you said. Steady. Even. Running low on patience.

"Ye haven't even given me a chance—"

"I've given you several."

He smiled — the kind that thought it was charming — and leaned in slightly. "What, ye waiting on someone?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Me," said Tara, materialising at your elbow with the calm efficiency of a woman who had made a decision. She looked at the boy with the pleasant, unbothered expression of someone who dealt with difficult situations daily and found this one fairly unremarkable. "And I need her for a minute. Excuse us."

She steered you two steps sideways, turned her back on the boy, and leaned in.

"He's not stopping," she said, low.

"I noticed."

"How long?"

"Close to twenty minutes now."

Tara's expression shifted. She glanced over her shoulder at the boy, who was still hovering with the persistence of someone who hadn't been told no in terms he'd fully processed. Then she looked toward the door.

"I'll be right back," she said.

"Tara, you don't have to—"

She was already moving.

Chibs was leaning against the outside wall, phone to his ear, when Tara pushed through the door.

He read her face in about half a second. Held up one finger, said into the phone, "I'll call ye back," and hung up before the response came.

"What is it," he said.

"Tucson boy," Tara said. "He's been at her for twenty minutes and he won't quit."

That was all she said.

Chibs pushed off the wall and went inside.

He came through the door the way he always did — unhurried, completely certain, the cut already on his shoulders and his expression already doing the work before he'd made it halfway across the room.

You saw him the moment he entered.

The relief was immediate — visible, probably, in the way your shoulders dropped — and then you saw his face properly and everything in you settled. He crossed the room without rushing, people moving out of the way without being asked, and came to stop beside you.

Not in front of the boy. Beside you. Close. His hand settling at the small of your back like it had always lived there, warm and immediate and entirely deliberate, and he looked at the boy across from you with the patient, unhurried attention of a man who was in absolutely no rush at all.

The boy looked at him. Looked at the cut. Started to understand something.

"Alright," Chibs said. Pleasantly. Accent warm and even.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I was just—"

"Aye," Chibs said. "I can see what ye were doing." He tilted his head slightly. "How old are ye?"

"Twenty three," the boy said, a little uncertain now.

"Twenty three." Chibs repeated it the way he repeated things when he was letting them sit. Then he looked at the boy steadily, directly, with the full attention of a man who had never once needed to raise his voice to make a point. "I heard what ye said earlier. About her wasting her time with someone twice her age."

The boy went still.

"Now," Chibs continued, his voice unchanged, "I'll give ye the benefit of the doubt that ye didn't know whose girl ye were talking to. Because if ye did know—" a small pause, "—we'd be having a very different conversation."

Silence.

"I didn't know," the boy said. Quieter than before.

"I gathered." Chibs nodded once. "And I want to be sure I understand what ye said correctly." He looked at the boy with the particular calm of someone who had made a decision and was taking his time getting there. "Ye implied that I'm too old for her. That she could do better." He paused. "Is that right?"

The boy said nothing. Which was the correct instinct.

"Because here's the thing," Chibs said, still in the same even tone. Still with the same unhurried patience. He glanced at you briefly — warm, private, entirely his — then back at the boy. "Aye, I'm twice her age. I'll not argue with that." He took one step forward, not threatening, just closing the distance enough to make the point land fully. "But I'd wager everything I have that ye couldn't satisfy her the way I can. And she'd tell ye the same."

The room around them had gone very still.

The boy's face had gone red.

"So," Chibs said, pleasantly, as if none of that had just happened, "I think we're done here. Enjoy yer evening."

The boy left. Quickly. In the direction of his own charter without looking back.

Chibs watched him go. Said nothing. Waited until the distance was sufficient.

Then he turned to you.

And before you could say a word he took your face in both hands, tilted it up, and kissed you.

Not soft — thorough. The kind that made a point all on its own, warm and certain and entirely unhurried, his thumbs at your jaw and one hand sliding into your hair. You went with it without thinking, hands finding the front of his cut, and he kissed you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to, which as far as he was concerned you were.

When he finally pulled back his forehead dropped to rest against yours.

"Alright, mo chridhe?" he murmured. Low, just for you.

"Very alright," you said, slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth pulled up.

Around you, the room had resumed itself — conversations restarting, people looking away with the particular tact of people who had witnessed something and decided it was none of their business. Across the room Tig was saying something to Happy with an expression of profound satisfaction. Happy looked like he was pretending he hadn't seen anything and failing at it.

Tara, from the other side of the clubhouse, caught your eye and raised her glass slightly.

You raised yours back.

"Ye didn't have to say that," you said to Chibs, after a moment. "The thing you said to him."

"Which thing," he said, the picture of innocence.

"You know which thing."

"It was true," he said simply. Completely unbothered. "I was just being honest with the lad."

You looked at him. "That's not why you said it."

"No," he agreed, the almost-smile fully there now. "It was also very satisfying." He looked back out at the room, his arm settling around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Twenty three," he said, more to himself than to you, with the dry tone of someone who had filed something away for later amusement. "Aye."

"Filip."

"He's a child."

"He's the same age as me."

"Ye," Chibs said, looking down at you with the particular expression that made your chest do things, "are nothing like him." He pressed a kiss to your temple. "Not even close."

You shook your head. Leaned into him.

"You're impossible," you said.

"I'm Scottish," he said. "It's different."

Across the room, the Tucson boy was very quietly, very thoroughly ignoring your entire corner of the clubhouse.

Chibs noticed. Said nothing. Drank his drink.

His arm stayed around you for the rest of the night, and he didn't move it once.

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

#chibs telford #samcro #SOA #chibs telford x reader #chibs telford imagine #chibs telford imagines #chibs telford one shot #jax teller #opie winston #juice ortiz #sons of anarchy #clay morrow #gemma teller #happy lowman

no one’s old lady

you say you a gangsta, that don’t impress me none

pairings: jax teller x bi!outlaw!reader (no specific descriptions of reader)

warnings: crime, eventual smut, outlaw shit, pyromania, grief

summary: jax was never scared of women. until he met the one who didn’t flinch at blood or business. she’s the daughter of a former samcro president — born into the club but never allowed inside. not because she wasn’t loyal. because she wasn’t a man. now she moves product on her own terms. guns, cash, clean ups, disappearances. not anyone’s old lady. not looking for permission.

she runs parallel to the table, never beneath it. and jax?

he can’t stop watching. can’t stop wondering how a woman like her exists — someone just as lethal, just as loyal, and just as fucked up as him.

chapters:

smut= ☠︎︎ fluff= ✮

one: ash to ash ☠︎︎ wlw

two: dust to dust

three: ghosts☠︎︎

four: me & the devil☠︎︎

five: crazy girls

prequel: tramp stamp ☠︎︎

extras:

teaser

meet the outlaw!reader

#sons of anarchy #jax teller #bobby munson #happy lowman #chibs telford #fiona larkin #kerrianne larkin telford #opie winston #clay morrow #soaedit #3x08 #queue

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

this is incredibly funny to me

#sons of anarchy #tig trager #clay morrow #gemma teller #zsófi rambles

SONS OF ANARCHY (2008 – 2014) 2X13 « Na Trioblóidí »

#soa #soaedit #sons of anarchy #jackson 'jax' teller #jax teller #clay morrow #charlie hunnam #chunnamedit #ron perlman #gifs #tv #tvedit #tvarchive

SAMCRO vs. Hospitals

I've been feeling off lately so wrote a self indulgent comfort fic.

----------------------------------------------------------

Taglist: @kellynickelsgirl00 @ravennaortiz @privatetruths @secretlysamcro @staley83 @jozzieblood @tuesdayaddamss @mrstelford @tssweets @mamawiggers1980 @youngadult9016 @samcrosfaith @staley83 @bethexo07 @anonymouse1807 @raven1234321 @vaugarkel @callmesev @vagharsnextsnack @lunajay33 @punkrockcakepops @sweetestrose569 @xoxo-sarah @gidgetto

----------------------------------------------------------

⚠️ Warnings: medical equipment, hospital setting, descriptions of pain, Tig being Tig, some characters might be slightly ooc.

----------------------------------------------------------

A/N: not edited properly

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only sound in your hospital room when you first woke up. Your head felt foggy, and you couldn't quite remember how you'd ended up here. The stark white walls and antiseptic smell made everything feel surreal. You were just starting to drift back to sleep when the sound of heavy boots echoed down the hallway, followed by what could only be described as controlled chaos.

"Jesus Christ, Hap, you can't just stare at people like that," came Jax's voice from the corridor.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing," Happy's monotone response drifted through the door.

You couldn't help but smile despite the dull ache in your head.

They'd come.

Of course they'd come.

The door burst open, and suddenly your quiet hospital room was filled with leather, denim, and the unmistakable presence of SAMCRO.

For Who You Are - Jax Teller (Part #1)

Part #1

Jax x Fem!Reader!Knowles

Tara x Sister!Reader

Warnings: SOA, angst

Word count: 2,468

Authors Note: There’s a part 2 to this and it’s already done!

Masterlist

Sons Of Anarchy Masterlist

Part #2

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Hey Baby.” Gemma greeted as Y/n walked into the TM office.

“Hey Gem. How’s he doing?” Y/n greeted back before asking about the broken hearted boy.

“Not any better. Unfortunately.” Gemma sighed.

“I don’t get it. She hates everything about him. She hates everything he cares about and loves. So why does he love her?” Y/n shook her head furious that her sister had done this to Jax.

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

idk if you take requests but if you do I’d love love love this!!!!!

i am not the biggest fan of this but i hope you like it :/ in my head her and gemma get manipedis together

wait…gemma’s known haps wife this whole time? (og post)

“Hey,” Clay had turned to his wife, eyebrows furrowed and a finger tapping the clear glass holding whiskey in his hand. “You ever seen Haps wife at a lockdown?”

Gemma scoffed, leaning against the bar. “I promise you, she doesn’t need to be here. You think that man would marry a woman who can’t take care of herself with all the nomad shit he does?”

“Baby,” Gemma started, tossing the rag she’d been cleaning the counter off with to the side. “She’s Haps family — not ours. She don’t want nothing to do with the Sons.”

“Smokin’ outside.” He watches the spot where the picnic table is outside, like he can see through the wooden paneling stuck to the wall.

“Alright,” Clay nods back. “Come bring her to say hi, once she’s done.” Hap finally turns his head to look at the man, face as serious as always.

“You try to get her in here, she’ll kill a couple people. Already about to start shootin’ — that ain’t happenin’.”

“Oh, shit,” Gemma mutters. “I gotta go save this whore.”

“What?” She hears Tara ask as she quickly walks over to the picnic table.

“Yeah, whatever,” She waves off Gemma, who sends her a fond bump to the bicep before sitting across from her.

“Don’t fuckin’ call him that when you sit at the same table as me,” She gestures around like she’s offended by the name.

“Come meet David’s wife, then,” Gemma rolls her eyes as she makes the correction.

“Hi,” Tara sends her a tightlipped but friendly smile. “Big dog you got there.”

“You’re in for an ass reaming,” Gemma mutters to him as they pass by.

“Ain’t I always?” He responds, knowing full well, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

don't touch what's his — chibs telford x reader

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

summary tara went to get him. that was all it took.

requests are open :)

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

The Tucson charter didn't come to Charming often.

Tonight they were here because business required it. Tomorrow they'd be gone.

Most of them had read that correctly.

Chibs was outside.

The problem arrived about ten minutes after he left.

He hadn't taken a single one.

"Come on," he said, for what felt like the fourth time, still too close. "I'm just talking to ye."

"And I've told you I'm not interested," you said. Steady. Even. Running low on patience.

"Ye haven't even given me a chance—"

"I've given you several."

He smiled — the kind that thought it was charming — and leaned in slightly. "What, ye waiting on someone?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

She steered you two steps sideways, turned her back on the boy, and leaned in.

"He's not stopping," she said, low.

"I noticed."

"How long?"

"Close to twenty minutes now."

"I'll be right back," she said.

"Tara, you don't have to—"

She was already moving.

Chibs was leaning against the outside wall, phone to his ear, when Tara pushed through the door.

He read her face in about half a second. Held up one finger, said into the phone, "I'll call ye back," and hung up before the response came.

"What is it," he said.

"Tucson boy," Tara said. "He's been at her for twenty minutes and he won't quit."

That was all she said.

Chibs pushed off the wall and went inside.

You saw him the moment he entered.

The boy looked at him. Looked at the cut. Started to understand something.

"Alright," Chibs said. Pleasantly. Accent warm and even.

The boy nodded. "Yeah, I was just—"

"Aye," Chibs said. "I can see what ye were doing." He tilted his head slightly. "How old are ye?"

"Twenty three," the boy said, a little uncertain now.

The boy went still.

Silence.

"I didn't know," the boy said. Quieter than before.

The boy said nothing. Which was the correct instinct.

The room around them had gone very still.

The boy's face had gone red.

"So," Chibs said, pleasantly, as if none of that had just happened, "I think we're done here. Enjoy yer evening."

The boy left. Quickly. In the direction of his own charter without looking back.

Chibs watched him go. Said nothing. Waited until the distance was sufficient.

Then he turned to you.

And before you could say a word he took your face in both hands, tilted it up, and kissed you.

When he finally pulled back his forehead dropped to rest against yours.

"Alright, mo chridhe?" he murmured. Low, just for you.

"Very alright," you said, slightly breathless.

The corner of his mouth pulled up.

Tara, from the other side of the clubhouse, caught your eye and raised her glass slightly.

You raised yours back.

"Ye didn't have to say that," you said to Chibs, after a moment. "The thing you said to him."

"Which thing," he said, the picture of innocence.

"You know which thing."

"It was true," he said simply. Completely unbothered. "I was just being honest with the lad."

You looked at him. "That's not why you said it."

"Filip."

"He's a child."

"He's the same age as me."

"Ye," Chibs said, looking down at you with the particular expression that made your chest do things, "are nothing like him." He pressed a kiss to your temple. "Not even close."

You shook your head. Leaned into him.

"You're impossible," you said.

"I'm Scottish," he said. "It's different."

Across the room, the Tucson boy was very quietly, very thoroughly ignoring your entire corner of the clubhouse.

Chibs noticed. Said nothing. Drank his drink.

His arm stayed around you for the rest of the night, and he didn't move it once.

⋆｡°✩ 🎀 ♡ 🎀 ✩°｡⋆

no one’s old lady

you say you a gangsta, that don’t impress me none

pairings: jax teller x bi!outlaw!reader (no specific descriptions of reader)

warnings: crime, eventual smut, outlaw shit, pyromania, grief

she runs parallel to the table, never beneath it. and jax?

he can’t stop watching. can’t stop wondering how a woman like her exists — someone just as lethal, just as loyal, and just as fucked up as him.

chapters:

smut= ☠︎︎ fluff= ✮

one: ash to ash ☠︎︎ wlw

two: dust to dust

three: ghosts☠︎︎

four: me & the devil☠︎︎

five: crazy girls

prequel: tramp stamp ☠︎︎

extras:

teaser

meet the outlaw!reader

#sons of anarchy #jax teller #bobby munson #happy lowman #chibs telford #fiona larkin #kerrianne larkin telford #opie winston #clay morrow #soaedit #3x08 #queue

•18+ Adults Only

Watch Anya Live on Cam

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.

✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions

Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming

this is incredibly funny to me

#sons of anarchy #tig trager #clay morrow #gemma teller #zsófi rambles

SONS OF ANARCHY (2008 – 2014) 2X13 « Na Trioblóidí »

#soa #soaedit #sons of anarchy #jackson 'jax' teller #jax teller #clay morrow #charlie hunnam #chunnamedit #ron perlman #gifs #tv #tvedit #tvarchive

SAMCRO vs. Hospitals

I've been feeling off lately so wrote a self indulgent comfort fic.

----------------------------------------------------------

⚠️ Warnings: medical equipment, hospital setting, descriptions of pain, Tig being Tig, some characters might be slightly ooc.

----------------------------------------------------------

A/N: not edited properly

"Jesus Christ, Hap, you can't just stare at people like that," came Jax's voice from the corridor.

"I'm not staring. I'm observing," Happy's monotone response drifted through the door.

You couldn't help but smile despite the dull ache in your head.

They'd come.

Of course they'd come.

The door burst open, and suddenly your quiet hospital room was filled with leather, denim, and the unmistakable presence of SAMCRO.

Top Posts Tagged with #clay morrow | Tumlook

Trending Tags

Last Seen Tags

#clay morrow

Trending Tags

Last Seen Tags

#clay morrow