#suse loves jax

[groovyangelkisses]

Jax with a girly girl who wears the shortest shorts and tight tops <333 just love the idea of this big bad biker corrupting this innocent girl

anon, you are an absolute dollbaby & this speaks to my very soul. jax teller needs a sweet girl, it's true!!!!! i listened to venice bitch by lana for this <3

cw: hyperfem!reader, innocent!reader, slight size kink, protective!jax, nsfw

the first thing jax ever noticed about you is how wide-eyed you looked at others around you. amazed or heartbroken, your sweet eyes held that same vulnerability that made him, and the entire club instantly enamored by you. you weren't a crow eater, couldn't muster up that type of confidence (or keep your eyes on anyone other than jax) for long enough, and all the guys knew it.

tig was the first one to spot you, quietly shuffling into teller morrow with the request of fixing a flat tire. your hair sat in a ponytail on your head, leaving a dainty necklace to show off your neck that slowly grew warmer with the intense california heat. and when jax peers around the corner to see why juice has suddenly stopped working, and prospect stands completely still, he sees you in your sweet little orange tube top & tiny jean shorts & sneakers & long white painted nails and moves a little quicker in his walk over to you.

in fact, he tugs on that same ponytail while asking you about your car, where you're from, where you bought that sweet little tube top, if you've ever been on a bike, if he makes you nervous. and the rest of the guys are flabbergasted. jax? fawning over the sweet, curious little thing that waltzes unto the shop, all coconut & jasmine scented? sure, it's not the most insane thing to happen, but the fierce protectiveness that jax immediately adapts is. like when you bend down to sign the paperwork for your car repairs, he stands behind you, afraid your distressed levi's will lift and show off those sweet orange panties he caught a glimpse of earlier when you leaned into your passenger seat to grab your insurance.

and when you straighten around to show him your paperwork, smiling & proud, his hand resting on the frayed posters of gemma's office, effectively boxing you in, he gently tells you "you gotta be careful when you lean over darlin' not everybody is as gentlemanly as i am— what're you lookin' at dickhead?!" before excusing himself with a light, fleeting touch to your hip before chasing half-sack down to point a strong finger in his face & tell him to leave the female clientele alone.

he loves your height difference, how you peer up at him with such wonderment, and even devastated confusion when you learn of some of the innerworkings of samcro. he absolutely has to fight off his cuteness aggression so he doesn't immediately smush your cheeks in his big hand, bring your other hand to the front of his jeans and purr "too fuckin' cute, you gotta cut it out or i'm gonna blow a load right here, sweetheart." and he looooooves the breathless look that overtakes you, and the slight creeping smile that adorns your face— adapting to him, to his never-ending need to feel you, just as needy and wanting as he is.

your naivety, your kindness, your ability to see jax as he's always wanted to be seen— strong, trying his best, all of it makes him even more enamored by you. you and your clicky wedged heels that always signify when you come to visit him at the shop, the scent of your bubblegum lipgloss floating through the clubhouse, your sweet, sad sniffle when he has to leave on a run. he loves all of it. loves that you need him, most of all.

[semperamans]

i love love love ur fics<33 would u ever write for jax teller ?

thank you angel! i wouldn't mind writing for jax! however if you need a fix right now then my dearest angel doll baby suse already has some jax pieces up and my oh my are they good <3

[groovyangelkisses]

jax’s sons tattoo on his back 😋 thinking about scratching it up

oh my goodness, yes!

he loves the feeling so much, that he pays for you to get your nails done! sometimes, if he's feeling particularly tender, he'll sit with you while you get them done and wolf whistle when they're finished "red hot baby, real nice" :')

and the morning after you've marked him all up? he doesn't care, he isn't fazed, in fact he puts on his white tank and waltzes around the club house proudly. naturally the guys give him shit, tig especially, but he doesn't care, jax'll just motion you over to him, a quizzical "darlin' do a spin for me" falling from his bubblegum lips as you twirl. and once your world stops spinning, he'll wrap his strong arm around your waist and glare up at tig "you're tellin me you wouldn't let her do whatever she wanted to you, dumbass?"

and you know when he fights o'neill? his chest heaving and sweaty and his hair loosely tied up? smiling and soooo cocky? if he had his favorite accessory, the remnants of your dragging hands on his back, he considers it a "good luck" charm. leanin' over to tell o'neill, "no marks buddy, my girl doesn't like to share"

[groovyangelkisses]

just got the most gut wrenching desire to give jax teller children

[groovyangelkisses]

i love jax :(

[groovyangelkisses]

hi my sweet baby suse :') love you sm n'just wanna know your thoughts when it comes to sitting on jax's lap <3 would he pet your hair? call you sweet little pet names? just wonderin' <3

anything for you clo, my pretty girl ! 🫶🏻

this became super long-winded, i just think he's neat :')

cw: jealousy, slight! innocence kink, potential 'opie yearning for reader' moment (who's shocked?) slightly nsfw

personally, i think jax is constantly pulling his girl into his lap. whether it's because tig is getting a little too friendly, or you've been talking (gazing) at opie for a tiny bit longer than he'd like, it's like you make a movement & you're in his lap. he's very "hey, where you goin' sweetheart, hm?" all teasing and smug and smiley, pulling you by the wrist to sit on him.

while jax loves having you in his lap to see you get all blushy and shy "c'mon darlin' they all know you love sittin' on me" (never letting the opportunity for innuendo pass him by,) he also loves the sense of pride that he gets from having a pretty, sweet thing like you perched in his lap. while jax is all leather and dirty t-shirts and baggy jeans, you're sweet pastels and soft fabrics— the warmth that jax is slowly starting to feel in his heart again.

and he'll take any form of lap sitting, by the way. if you're sitting directly on him, after you deliver some comment about jax bein the "comfiest, cleanest chair here!" he'll laugh, and wrap his big arms around your tummy, his face in your hair, whispering dirty jokes and funny comments about juice and chibs in your ear.

and if you're sitting sideways? legs spread across his lap and dangling over his thighs? his hands never leave them. one hand protectively holds your ankle, fingers lightly fiddling with the cold "J" anklet he bought just for you. his other hand slides up and down your leg, pausing to lay his palm flat on your knee, or to slide his extended hand up the sides of your thigh. and jax knows nooo personal space with you, by the way. so you two are face to face as he talks, his strong nose brushing against yours, and when he leans over to tell you a secret, his beard brushes against your cheek. eventually, his hand starts to slide up the center of your thighs, and his lips get a little too close to the sweetest spot on your neck, and he notices opie looking at the smooth skin of your face too long, and suddenly he can't help himself. nights like those usually end with you happily skipping behind jax as he leads you to his clubhouse room, trying to supress a smile at your obvious affection and excitement for him.

that being said, jax is a veerrrryy jealous person, so whenever he senses a prospect gettin' a little too close for his liking, he'll give you the look and you'll know where to go. of course, jax never tells you exactly why he'll suddenly stop your conversation with happy and ask you to come (essentially) straddle him in the clubhouse— he never wants you to know the true, horribly corrupt fantasies of the other male bikers.

so he'll take you in his lap, hooking your arms over his shoulders and pulling you together; chest to chest, him pressing against your panties in a comforting way. jax will pull the hem of your dress down and hold it still (he saw them trying to take a peek, and if he's being honest it took everything in him not to flip the pool table and start screaming) and start the sweetest little whispers in your bejeweled ear "my sweet girl, you know how pretty you are, hm? you know everybody here wants you? but they can't have you right? can they?"

and like clockwork, this same song and dance you get into everytime there's a meeting, you nod happily. and jax'll smile, a nice, wide, shit-eating grin aimed just as much at you as it is at the other samcro members looking onward; always yearning for a girl like you— loving, loyal, only having eyes for the blondie they all yearn to be.

his hand will move to your hair, softly running his fingers through it, soft applogies leaving his lips as your hair gets tangled in his rings, and he'll always kiss the corners of your lips to make up for it. he'll press your head to his chest, a big, protective hand sprawling across the back of your hair, holdin' you to him "just rest your eyes a little darlin', i gotta talk to the guys abit, kay?"

oh and he will. his hands running up and down your back and hair, in lulls of the conversation he'll kiss your cheek and ask quietly "still with me, babe?" and wait for your comfortable purr of "mmhmm" and continue on with the conversation. and he knows no one will ever say anything, they wouldn't dare. you're his little "doe in the headlights" and beyond jax's admittance, he needs to feel you in his hands just to get through the fear that he battles with everyday— the fear of disappointing the club, trampling his father's legacy, losing you. the thought makes him tighten his grip on you, hugging you like a child hugs their teddy bear, and the pressure, the sheer weight of his love is so fulfilling, you'll happily flirt with juice if it means it'll always end with jax holding you like this.

[semperamans]

stop this is so fuckin’ cute :( love a sweet jax and OPIE UNDERTONES????? purrrrrr :’(

hi my sweet baby suse :') love you sm n'just wanna know your thoughts when it comes to sitting on jax's lap <3 would he pet your hair? call you sweet little pet names? just wonderin' <3

anything for you clo, my pretty girl ! 🫶🏻

this became super long-winded, i just think he's neat :')

cw: jealousy, slight! innocence kink, potential 'opie yearning for reader' moment (who's shocked?) slightly nsfw

personally, i think jax is constantly pulling his girl into his lap. whether it's because tig is getting a little too friendly, or you've been talking (gazing) at opie for a tiny bit longer than he'd like, it's like you make a movement & you're in his lap. he's very "hey, where you goin' sweetheart, hm?" all teasing and smug and smiley, pulling you by the wrist to sit on him.

while jax loves having you in his lap to see you get all blushy and shy "c'mon darlin' they all know you love sittin' on me" (never letting the opportunity for innuendo pass him by,) he also loves the sense of pride that he gets from having a pretty, sweet thing like you perched in his lap. while jax is all leather and dirty t-shirts and baggy jeans, you're sweet pastels and soft fabrics— the warmth that jax is slowly starting to feel in his heart again.

and he'll take any form of lap sitting, by the way. if you're sitting directly on him, after you deliver some comment about jax bein the "comfiest, cleanest chair here!" he'll laugh, and wrap his big arms around your tummy, his face in your hair, whispering dirty jokes and funny comments about juice and chibs in your ear.

and if you're sitting sideways? legs spread across his lap and dangling over his thighs? his hands never leave them. one hand protectively holds your ankle, fingers lightly fiddling with the cold "J" anklet he bought just for you. his other hand slides up and down your leg, pausing to lay his palm flat on your knee, or to slide his extended hand up the sides of your thigh. and jax knows nooo personal space with you, by the way. so you two are face to face as he talks, his strong nose brushing against yours, and when he leans over to tell you a secret, his beard brushes against your cheek. eventually, his hand starts to slide up the center of your thighs, and his lips get a little too close to the sweetest spot on your neck, and he notices opie looking at the smooth skin of your face too long, and suddenly he can't help himself. nights like those usually end with you happily skipping behind jax as he leads you to his clubhouse room, trying to supress a smile at your obvious affection and excitement for him.

that being said, jax is a veerrrryy jealous person, so whenever he senses a prospect gettin' a little too close for his liking, he'll give you the look and you'll know where to go. of course, jax never tells you exactly why he'll suddenly stop your conversation with happy and ask you to come (essentially) straddle him in the clubhouse— he never wants you to know the true, horribly corrupt fantasies of the other male bikers.

so he'll take you in his lap, hooking your arms over his shoulders and pulling you together; chest to chest, him pressing against your panties in a comforting way. jax will pull the hem of your dress down and hold it still (he saw them trying to take a peek, and if he's being honest it took everything in him not to flip the pool table and start screaming) and start the sweetest little whispers in your bejeweled ear "my sweet girl, you know how pretty you are, hm? you know everybody here wants you? but they can't have you right? can they?"

and like clockwork, this same song and dance you get into everytime there's a meeting, you nod happily. and jax'll smile, a nice, wide, shit-eating grin aimed just as much at you as it is at the other samcro members looking onward; always yearning for a girl like you— loving, loyal, only having eyes for the blondie they all yearn to be.

his hand will move to your hair, softly running his fingers through it, soft applogies leaving his lips as your hair gets tangled in his rings, and he'll always kiss the corners of your lips to make up for it. he'll press your head to his chest, a big, protective hand sprawling across the back of your hair, holdin' you to him "just rest your eyes a little darlin', i gotta talk to the guys abit, kay?"

oh and he will. his hands running up and down your back and hair, in lulls of the conversation he'll kiss your cheek and ask quietly "still with me, babe?" and wait for your comfortable purr of "mmhmm" and continue on with the conversation. and he knows no one will ever say anything, they wouldn't dare. you're his little "doe in the headlights" and beyond jax's admittance, he needs to feel you in his hands just to get through the fear that he battles with everyday— the fear of disappointing the club, trampling his father's legacy, losing you. the thought makes him tighten his grip on you, hugging you like a child hugs their teddy bear, and the pressure, the sheer weight of his love is so fulfilling, you'll happily flirt with juice if it means it'll always end with jax holding you like this.