I was tagged by @navybrat817 and @nerdieforpedro to share something from a WIP, and while I tend not to participate in too many WIP-sharing tag games, my rule is if I'm tagged more than once, I'll do it 🤣
Here is a little snippet from an untitled (😑) Will Miller fic that is very light and smutty and playful.
He gave your thigh a squeeze before reaching for your hand, bringing it up to his mouth where he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, letting it linger there so you were able to feel his breath and the soft prickling of his beard.
Pulling up to a stop light, Will glanced over at you, smiling against your hand as he sent you a wink that ignited even more fire through your veins.
“You look good, sweetheart,” he praised, his familiar drawl low and enticing.
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Hi can I request a smutty 3/e/32 cause of the heatwave reader shaves Jax Tellers hair. She wears a tiny dress with nothing under it cause it's too hot. and while Jax is sitting there and she's standing in front of him doing her thing he's going insane cause of that dress and starts stroking her thighs n more which leads to sex in the bathroom 🥵🥰
Heatwave.
3. "Will you let me cut your hair?" + 32. "Can I touch you?" + e. Heatwave
Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my first ever Jax fic - god this man is so gorgeous !! anon, i hope you don't mind that i chose to cut his hair rather than shave it - because the idea of shaving his blonde locks breaks my heart honestly :( thank you for this request!! x
my other jax fic.
Pairing - Jax Teller x Female Reader
Age Rating - 18+
Warnings - smut!! cursing
Word Count - 890
Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.
You can't watch him struggle any longer.
Jax is in your driveway, working on his bike in the blazing sun. He's shirtless, golden skin on display, sweat dripping down his back. He looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine.
You can see him becoming irritated. His hair keeps falling into his face, getting into his eyes. He repeatedly pushes it behind his ears, to no avail. It just falls again. You're worried he's going to pull it out in a fit of rage, honestly.
"Jax?" you call, rising from the porch to make your way towards him.
He turns when he hears you call his name, beaming smile on his face. The smile falters slightly when he takes in the sight of you. You're wearing a short, colourful sundress, material swishing around your mid thighs. It hugs your body in all the right places, thin straps revealing your lack of bra. He takes a deep breath upon your approach, begging his mind to stop racing with the filthy thoughts.
"Hi, darlin'," he drawls, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You're wearing your cherry lip balm, and it takes everything in him not to bend you over the bike right there.
"Will you let me cut your hair?" you ask sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck.
"You want to? Thought you liked it long."
"I do, but it's getting in your way. Just let me take a little length off? It'll stop it from falling in your eyes."
He smiles at the realisation that you've been watching him struggle and could no longer bear it. An angel, sent just for him.
"Okay, baby. Let's do it," he says, kissing you again. Abandoning his bike, he picks you up around the middle and practically carries you inside.
You pull a chair into the bathroom and gesture for Jax to sit while you rummage in the drawer for the hairdressing scissors. When you find them, you move to stand between his legs, big blue eyes watching your every step.
Jax places his hands on your hips while you run your fingers through his hair, combing it gently. You're deciding how much to take off, surveying carefully. You know he won't mind either way, but you still want to make it look good.
You start snipping away, ignoring the beads of sweat that are dripping down your back. It's the hottest day of the year so far, and your air conditioning can only do so much. You wish you could walk around with your shirt off like Jax. He probably wouldn't mind, actually.
His hands migrate from your hips to your thighs, stroking up and down gently. He's making it hard to concentrate, so you double down on your focus, determined to finish the job. Neither of you say anything about the way your breathing has quickened, or the way his is now deep and laboured. His fingers brush higher, and you put the scissors down on the counter.
"What are you doing?" you question teasingly, placing your hands on his shoulders.
"Just sitting for my haircut, ma'am," he answers cheekily.
"Do you try and put your hand up all of your hair stylists dresses, Jackson?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," he winks.
His eyes darken slightly as they rake over your body, up and down. He wraps a strong arm around your back, pulling you into him further. The other hand is still tracing patterns on your inner thigh. He dares to move it higher, and lets out a guttural groan at what he finds.
"Fuck, honey. Are you wearing panties?"
"Nope," you reply, popping the 'P'. "Too hot."
He rests his head on your stomach and trails his fingers along the crease of your thigh.
"Can I touch you?"
"You are touching me, Jax."
"No, baby. Can I touch you here? Please?"
To emphasise his question, he brushes his fingers over your clit lightly. You jolt at the sudden contact, throwing your head back.
"Yes, Jax. Please."
You're suddenly grateful for the grip you have on his shoulders. Your knees are buckling already, balance unsteady. God, this man knows how to play you like a violin.
"No more teasing," you pant. "Need you."
How can he say no to that?
He's fumbling to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his thighs. He pulls you forward so you're straddling him, and lines himself up. In one swift stroke, you roll your hips downwards and he slides home, both of you groaning.
"Fuck, darlin'."
"Shit, Jax. Please."
You use his thighs and his shoulders as leverage, moving yourself up and down. He thrusts upwards, meeting your strokes, sending pleasure prickling down your spine.
"This fuckin' dress," he groans. You giggle, and the vibrations drive him wild.
He can tell you're close when your hips start to stutter, rhythm faltering. He doubles down, thrusting up with more force. Jax bites down on your shoulder, and it sends you over the edge, white hot and blinding.
Your climax triggers his, hips not stopping until you're both spent and boneless. Your foreheads are pressed together, panting.
"I'm gonna buy you a hundred of these dresses," he chuckles.
"Fine by me," you reply, kissing him deeply.
"Good."
"Might need one with sleeves, though. Something's gotta cover this bite mark."
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