hot kilt

  1. Absolutely all of these fics have happy endings. I can’t read hardcore angst or I’ll die. I mean it. 
  2. If there are any other relationships in these fics then it’ll be minor but Johnlock is def front and center and endgame for all of them.
  3. I’ve avoided reccing the really famous Johnlock fics. I love them but all these fics need more love cause they’re all so amazing! 
  4. 99% of these fics are bottomlock but since I don’t care who bottoms or who tops (as long as they fuck and as long as they are in character) (that means no DFP Sherlock) (or Baby Princess John) so if you have a problem with toplock in general, tread carefully.
  5. All of these fics are from AO3. 
  6. Also please excuse my crappy summaries.
  7. Be sure to read all the tags before reading!


  • The Dialogue of John and Sherlock Series by cwb - Sherlock decides that he and John are in a romantic relationship. John tries to educate Sherlock on what that actually means. (this is the cutest, Sherlock is literally hopeless)
  • The Bachelors’ Handfasting by jurgbury - 1800s Scotland where younger Sherlock and older John are in an arranged marriage. (John is so fucking hot in this I want to die)
  • Thirteen Dances (Or, The Doctor Dances) by Knackorcraft - John can dance!!!
  • Hellfire by testosterone_tea - Magical Realism! John is a Berserker (powerful fire monster thing that’s supposed to be extinct) and is believed to be a threat to the country and Mycroft wants him held captive so of course Mage Sherlock is like NO.
  • Bury the Bells by unknownsister - Parade’s End AU. 
  • The Kepler Problem by kinklock - Alienlock and space-explorer/worker/maintainer/something John! (all of Kinklock’s fics are awesome af really)
  • The High Tide Series by stardust_made - A rich arse of a bloke tries to woo a clueless John and Sherlock just about loses his mind I LOVE JEALOUS SHERLOCK (The first story is rated T but the other two are E so…) (my fave)
  • The Haunting of Sherlock Holmes by MapleleafCameo - Sherlock investigates a 60 year old disappearance in the countryside and gets a shock along the way. (Not angsty, don’t worry)
  • The Life that is Waiting For by Youameliakaleigh - Sherlock is the son of a Goddess (so basically a demigod) and John is his trusty guardian/teacher/person/Sun sentinel okay just read!
  • Neighbours by thelookyouredoingthelookagain - John moves into 22IC and Sherlock is very silly, as he always is. 
  • Irrational and Sentimental Series by apliddell - Post S3 lovely Johnlock sweetness.
  • Intimacy Series by sussexbound (SamanthaLenore) - Love confessions and then smut! (First story is T later story is E) 
  • Never Have I Ever by hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) - The boys play Never Have I Ever with some of the Met and they get together cause John and Sherlock are so dumb that it takes alcohol and a truth game for them to realize that their feelings are REQUITED DAMN IT okay okay I’m sorry canon stresses me out.
  • First and Only by crimsonwinter - Babylock to Kidlock to Teenlock to Unilock, growing up with John. WIP
  • A Study in Movement by Supernova12 - Teen rugby John is working on an art project and needs to improve drawing movement so he draws teen ballet Sherlock. 
  • A Hard Day’s Night by 221Btls - John the Knight and Sherlock the peasant. WIP
  • To the Sticking Place by blueink3 - John and Sherlock as theatre actors, both acting as the main roles in a Hamlet production! WIP (I don’t know why this doesn’t get more love, this is the theatre version of Performance In A Leading Role!) (my fave) 
  • How Do You Know? by LaurieRoar - John having sex with Virgin Sherlock to see whether or not his claim that he doesn’t like sex is true. (my fave) (but I hardly ever see this recced) (super fucking hot)
  • Well Begun Is Half Done by Avice - Sherlock tryna seduce John but John’s like “Fuck that, let’s get down to it”. (Avice’s fics are severely underrated, they are all awesome)
  • Angel Hair Series by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic) - Successful surgeon John and waiter Sherlock get it on wohoho. WIP
  • A Study in Sex Series by Castiel_For_King - John teaching Sherlock The Ways of Sex.
  • The City of Dreams Series by bittergreens - Lots of sex? Lol.
  • Spinning by Tispy-the-Minx (ComeAlongPond14) - Seventeen-year-old John is assigned to Sherlock’s care.
  • For you, there’s only me by shock_blanket - So much pining the boys are idiots I swear to God.
  • Six Degrees of Separation by testosterone_tea - Sherlock highkey wants to meet John but treats it all like a ridiculous experiment to stay cool, I could kill him, he’s so ridiculous. (testosterone_tea is awesome, their fics need more love)
  • Lovesick by distantstarlight - Sherlock getting sick and John taking care of him and also sex.
  • The Republic of Heaven by Blind_Author - His Dark Materials AU. WIP (okay so this is my fave out of all my faves but it hasn’t been updated in forever but I refuse to believe it’s been abandoned or else I’ll perish) (the fave)
  • Imaginary Pictures by crossroads - Teenlock falling in love with John. Loads of pining. (this needs more love)
  • In Care Of by quietasasleepingarmy -  John writes instructions for Sherlock’s ‘lover’ on how to care for him aka I hate them PLEASE DIE.
  • In A Changing Age by allonsys_girl -  Sherlock wakes up in the 19th century, with no idea how he got there aka I love them I’M GONNA DIE.
  • Pretending to Be by 221BJen (jcoz1701) - John is hired to track down Sherlock, who is an asset to The Centre, a secret agency.
  • The Wrong Wagon by DancingGrimm - Molly starts crushing on John instead of Sherlock when the doctor saved her life. Sherlock (aka the gay baby loser that I hate) notices and just about goes insane.
  • Angel With A Fiddle by Remy_Writes5 - Young soldier John meets violinist Sherlock at a carnival the day before he is to be deployed to Germany to serve in World War 1.
  • The Boffin and the Bachelor by starrysummernights - Uh… John and Sherlock getting together and there’s some fluff and some smut and a bit of angst? (Idk how to summarize this. Really good, though)
  • Fool For You by sheerrloockk - Poor clueless Sherlock proposes to John on April Fools’ Day by accident.
  • Operation Inked by QuinnAnderson - John has a tattoo and Sherlock makes it his mission to see it cause he dumb.
  • Discerning Tastes by Irrevocably_Sherlocked - Sherlock tries to get some good Scotch for Mycroft’s birthday but is faced with a hot, kilt-wearing John and practically loses all his genius because of it. (Irrevocably_Sherlocked’s fics need more attention cause they are the bombdotcom)
  • Lightning and Sea Glass by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for - Frankenlock AU. (This is a bit angsty so watch out)
  • In Nomine by Atiki - Sherlock can only manage to say John’s name when they have sex. (Sherlock is too cute, I will perish)
  • See Recipe for Details by pandoras_chaos - John makes a list of things Sherlock likes to eat. (Reading this made me hungry. For food. Obvs)


  • Tell it Like it is by testosterone_tea -  Sherlock and John go out to the pub with some of the officers from Scotland Yard and played some games while they’re at it. (This is fucking hilarious) 
  • The Semantics of Crop Circle Formation: a case study by Sherlock Holmes [unpublished] by canolacrush - John and Sherlock are investigating a weird extraterrestrial-like case but for once, John knows more about it than Sherlock does wink wink read it! (my fave) (this needs heaps more love wtf!!!)
  • My Life Had Stood A Loaded Gun by HeartOfTheMirror - Magical Realism! John is a Healer. (I hate Mycroft in this)
  • Aparecium by 1electricpirate - Potterlock! Sherlock is a Muggle but John isn’t. WIP
  • Enigma by khorazir - The Imitation Game-esque fic. WIP
  • Splatter Patterns by beezee - John is an artist and Sherlock is an art critic.
  • Apprehension by BashfulBunny (Aequoreavictoria) - John is hired to kidnap Sherlock but things go awry obvs. WIP
  • Captains of Industry series by 221b_hound - John is a hot barista and Sherlock is, of course, a fumbling mess. (This series is awesome, the whole gang is here, working close by.)
  • where the good things grow by anchors - Sherlock has a magic garden he uses to brew tea and John has a tea shop. (This fic is so sweettttt and deserves more love)
  • Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) - Sherlock takes John to a gay bar expecting him to be uncomfortable but BAM John the Raging Bisexual comes out to play and shocks the fuck out of the detective.
  • The Thin Line by Odamaki - Sherlock and John in a super snug closet  and John gets a raging boner lolllllllll.
  • The Frost Child by twistedthicket1 - Everyone have gifts and John keeps his a secret but Sherlock finds out. (my fave)
  • Dawn Before the Rest of the World Series by PoppyAlexander - 1920s England, butler Sherlock and gardener John. (John is so romantic in this, I want to cry)
  • Dreamer by MagdaTheMagpie - After Afghanistan, John keeps dreaming about Sherlock dying and does everything he can to stop it. (my fave)
  • ROT-13 by berlynn_wohl -  John the spaceman crashes his pod in Sherlock the alien’s planet where he meets Sherlock and fuck it’s hilarious just read.
  • Don’t Underestimate John Watson by BakerTumblings - John is offered the role of Lester Nygaard in Fargo and basically never underestimate him, for reals.
  • Brother Mine by annabagnell - Parentlock and MPreg! Sherlock gives birth to a baby much to the impatience and delight of excited big sister Michaela (This is so sweet)
  • Care of Magical Creatures by stillaseeker - Some Potterlock domestic cuteness and hilarity. 
  • Ink and Honour Series by moonblossom - 1800s. Mrs. Hudson takes in young Captain John Watson who was injured in the Napoleonic wars alongside her young ward Sherlock. (first story is M but the ratings after that are all over the place so read tags) 


  • Love or What You Will by miss_frankenstein - John is an English professor and Sherlock is a PhD student assigned to be his TA. (I just… I love this one so much… I will die) (my fave) (this fic introduced me to my favourite poem, Sylvia Plath’s Mad Girl’s Love Song)
  • Bookshop Series by alivingfire - John meets Sherlock at a bookshop.
  • The Master of Latham Hall by Kryptaria - John and Sherlock investigates murders at Latham Hall and is in for a bit of a shock. (A bit of angst but not in regards to John and Sherlock) (I love you. I will always love you. God, I die every time)
  • A Haunted House series by cassyl - Major Character Deaths but not angsty. (Can’t say anything more cause spoilers but seriously, don’t worry, just read)
  • Once Upon a Beast Becoming by antietamfalls - Sherlock is an ancient being cursed by a Druid and John is the only person who can rid him of it. (loveeeeeeeee)
  • between each beat are words unsaid by darcylindbergh, hudders-and-hiddles (huddersandhiddles) -  On their wedding night, John and Sherlock gift each other with a collection of writings they wrote about the other. (Sweet af)  
  • Deleted Files Series by oh_my_stars_and_sky - Every time Sherlock deletes something from his Mind Palace it shows up in John’s mind. WIP
  • Four Shots Series by Opy3332 - John works at a Starbucks at SIS Headquarters and meets Sherlock.
  • Quality of Life Series by cleflink - John has great healing powers! WIP
  • Truth or Consequences Series by Majela - John gives Sherlock a taste of his own medicine in regards to drugging people without their consent.
  • Witness Protection by missilemuse -  John used to be Jim’s fiance but he finds out about him being super evil and all and testifies against him. He meets Sherlock and ya know: lurve. (my fave)
  • The Red Dianthus by kinklock -  The boys investigate a mysterious disappearance in a supposedly haunted house, and get much more than they bargained for.  
  • Watch What They Photograph Series by Itsallfine - “If you want to learn what someone fears losing, watch what they photograph.” (First two stories are rated T the last is E)
  • A Different Kind of Complication by Atisenia - John, living alone in 221B, started getting letters addressed to Sherlock.
  • Without a Doubt by prettysailorsoldier - 1950s Teenlock.
  • The Strait of Juan de Fuca by mightypog - Post Reichenbach. John is distant from Sherlock even though he has forgiven him and Sherlock tries hard to fix their friendship.
  • Turbulence in the Sky by esplanade - Sherlock wants to tell John how he feels about him but he keeps spouting bullshit instead oh my poor child…
  • Affectionate Investment by MillieTheFreak - Sherlock and John feeding each other like it’s the most natural thing in the world I LOVE THEM
  • What Would Sherlock Do? Series by EinahSirro - John uses his deductive powers to find out if Sherlock reciprocates his romantic feelings and to seduce him! 


  • The Contingency Plan by mightypog -  When Sally and Greg prevent Sherlock from committing suicide when he thinks John has been killed, Sherlock and Sally reconsider each other. (bit of angst, nothing heavy) (this is so real like this is exactly how canon Sherlock will react if anything happens to John) (my fave)
  • Evidence by JezebelGoldstone - Angry papa Lestrade comes bounding up to 221B demanding the return of all the evidence Sherlock stole so the detective tells the DI about some of the evidence so he’ll let him keep it. (Sherlock is amazingly sentimental in this, I love him)
  • And as the seasons change, I love you more by Teatrolley -  A year in the lives of John and Sherlock, essentially. (I will bawl my eyes out, this is so… just so! So much) (This isn’t rated so I’ll just put it under here) 

If I’ve mentioned your fic here and you want me to credit you or add a link to your Tumblr or anything like that, let me know! 

I’ll be updating this post regularly as more great fics will inevitably come along. And I’ll always be happy to rec specific fics to anyone and everyone! Just ask. I read Johnlock fanfic 24/7 every single day so might as well utilize it somehow. 

Okay, I needed to write something about kilt-wearing Jug because seriously how hot was that boy while pulling a Jamie Fraser? Very hot, I know. So, yeah, here you go, Scottish sexytimes! Also, my bae Anna aka @jugandbettsdetectiveagency has already written an incredibly steamy one-shot regarding Jug’s hotness in a kilt and Betty’s thirst for him so be sure to go check that out too, if you haven’t already! And, you know, keep a fan nearby. ;)

A/N: I kept the kilt sextimes theme but I didn’t really follow the making-up request because I was in the mood of a more fun, angst-free idea. I hope both of you still like my take on your prompts, darlings! Also, this is set in the future. Enjoy! ❤️


Scot and Bothered

A kilt.

A traditional, all plaid Scottish kilt.

Jughead Jones wearing said kilt.

Jughead Jones wearing said kilt while poun—

“I think I need a drink!”

Betty exclaims way chirpier than necessary, plastering an also way too dashing and way too fake smile on her petal pink lips, hoping that her inappropriate thoughts aren’t as crystal clear obvious as the blushing color that she’s sure is creeping on her highlighted cheekbones.  At her side, her mother raises a confused eyebrow, slightly reprimanding her daughter for indulging in alcohol that early in the evening, but Betty is way too flustered to even care about Alice Cooper’s anachronistic ladylike manners right at that moment.

“The bride and groom aren’t even here yet, Elizabeth.” With the corner of her eyes, the aforementioned Cooper can see Polly sporting an amused frown at their mother’s tone and her sister’s sudden hyperactivity.

“Well, I’m thirsty.” Not necessarily a lie, but then again this feeling low in her abdomen isn’t associated with the basic human need. “And this is a four-thousand-dollar Moet exclusively delivered in Riverdale for this day only; I wanna see what the fuss is all about.” Using Veronica’s excessive taste as an excuse, the blonde’s eyes land on Jughead once again, the words dying on her lips and she fears she is actually drooling, bringing a hand to the corner of her mouth just to be safe that nothing embarrassing is going to award her with the title of Horniest Maid of Honor anytime soon. She camouflages the action by pretending to check for any hints of smudged lipstick.

“It’s amazing, Betty.” Polly’s half-groan invades her hazy mind. “The cute bartender treated me a glass earlier and it was indeed the best drink I ever had.”

“Polly!” Alice scoffs incredulously, not happy about her daughters’ tendencies to, what in her mind she exaggerates to be, alcoholism.

“What, mom?” She shoots her an impish grin. “I’m a thirty-tree-year-old single mother that works way too much for her own good, in a wedding full of other single men that seem to be straight out of a high-nudity HBO show. Alcohol is the only thing that can help me keep my hands to myself.” Her eyes land on one of Archie’s second cousins, practically scanning him from head to toe before continuing naughtily. “Or not.” She shrugs with a wink towards them.

Alice Cooper gasps in horror, Polly giggles and Betty finds the perfect opportunity to excuse herself silently from the bantering duo.

Any other time she would have stayed to relish in the feeling of this mother-daughter easy going relationship the three of them had built from scratch over the last couple of years, offering Polly a helping hand at teasing their not so uptight anymore mother. But right now she really needs that drink and she really needs Jughead.

Yeah, she definitely does.

A penguin-dressed waiter passes her by and Betty stops him with a sweet smile, snatching a flute of champagne from his full tray, barely uttering a thank you, before plopping down on her prescribed seat on the still empty head table at the top center of the beautiful venue. The dusking sun along with a plethora of elegant white candle arrangements are illuminating prettily the Lodge’s lush green property at the outskirts of Riverdale that is decorated to perfection with the colors of pristine white and wealthy gold for the special occasion. It is truly a dreamy sight but Betty can’t really focus on anything else but the dark haired man that she calls her other half.

She knows that he is handsome; since day one, even when he didn’t believe in himself or even when nobody else did for that matter, Betty was aware that he was indeed a catch. After all those years together she also knows that he is the handsomest in dark blue or burgundy, or in the black tux (paired with a bowtie and suspenders and all) he wore on their wedding or bare-chested and only in his ratty old sweatpants or when he falls asleep next to her, weightless and sated and happy with an arm always securing her to his side.  

Yet, nothing had ever warned her for this level of hotness.

The severe blood ties of the Andrews’ family with Scotland may not come as a shock regarding the Gaelic derived surname and its members’ more than obvious trade of fiery hair but the Southern in their blood is not something they regularly advertised. So when Veronica and Archie announced, via one of their numerous wedding planning related Skype calls, to the couple consisting of her maid of honor and his best man that they had decided on a Scottish themed wedding, meaning traditional Scottish dress for any man present, Jughead all but flew out of one of their Boston apartment wide windows. He was adamant in his refusal to compromise his aesthetic for anything as surreal as him in a skirt – his words, not hers – but between his brotherly instincts towards Archie, Veronica’s insufferable pestering and Betty’s long, promising list of sex favors he finally caved. And, right now, his wife couldn’t be more in debt to her two best friends about that decision.

They arrived two weeks prior in Riverdale to help with the preparations but Betty never got the chance to see her husband in the characteristic tartan, since all the necessary fitting sessions were taking place at the Andrews’ household – Mary and Nana Andrews being the only experts that could work around the thick fabric – whereas at the same time she was needed at Pembrooke, trying dresses with the rest of the bridesmaids. And when the big day came, as per tradition, they got ready with their respective wedding parties, leaving Betty with a kaleidoscope of butterflies fluttering anxiously low in her stomach in anticipation for the big reveal.

Betty is sure that the state of aching arousal she was experiencing throughout the entire wedding ceremony has totally granted her a VIP front-row seat in hell.

But really she can’t help herself. Looking at him now, the center piece of her view, with a beer bottle at hand, casually chatting with Fred and two other men from the Andrews’ side of the family, she can’t think about anything else but him having her in any and all positions he desires while his lean physic is adorned with that symbol of raw masculinity. His jacket is now discarded and abandoned along with her bouquet on the seat next to her, leaving him in just a nicely formfitting button-up that stretches deliciously over his biceps with every swing he takes of his beer and a dark blue vest that hugs his hard chest perfectly, making him look elegant and very well-groomed. She can see his lean legs, strong and manly, his firm butt stretching the tartan, his loose, utterly charming grin, his slick raven hair styled in well-behaved waves – by the hairdresser Veronica had hired for the boys because, yes, she wouldn’t accept any scruffy appearances in her country chic wedding – and free from his beanie, the item not in his essential wardrobe anymore since Betty is the security blanket he ever wished and wanted, and she can hardly control her hormones at this point, the head-over-heels in love woman in her screaming to go get her man.

The bubbly drink in her hand disappears down her throat in one swift, buttons-up movement and she sets the expensive flute down with determination, before storming off towards him, a sea of blue swinging urgently but elegantly around her golden sandals. Jughead’s whole face lightens up with a wide smile as long as he notices his ethereal angel walking over to him.

“Sorry, gentlemen, but I really need to steal my husband for a moment.” Polite as always, Betty casts her best good girl smile at the older men, who of course immediately fall for her charm and reciprocate it. Jughead curls proudly an arm around her waist as she leans to his side, sending him a loving look.

“All yours.” Fred raises his arms, giving permission with his typical kind smile, a tad more elated due to the day. “He’s not that good of a company to begin with.” He jokes good-heartedly, earning cheerful laughs from everyone around and a fake offended eye roll from the man that he considers his second son, while the couple takes some steps away from the small group.

“Everything alright, love?” Jughead wonders what type of emergency needs his assistance, lightly caressing her hip in affection.

Betty shushes him with a chaste but fierce kiss that takes him a tad off guard, feeling her snatch the beer bottle from his hands to abandon it somewhere before taking hold of one of them to drag him behind her. “Just, come with me.” Her words are hushed and they hide some kind of desperation that Jughead struggles to comprehend as of why and he is about to question what’s going on in panic only to be guided behind the big stage that is set at the other end of the large property of land, where a popular indie band – that Jughead has never heard before but apparently they are pretty big and very good friends with the groom – and probably Archie at some point in the night are going to perform. As of now, a DJ straight from New York is entertaining the guests and Jughead is utterly confused about why Betty and he of all people are needed backstage.

When his back collides with the black soundproofing wall and his wife is kissing him in frenzy he is definitely not confused anymore.

Elizabeth Cooper Jones, what are you doing?” He gasps in mock scandal but with a surprised smirk on his face, upon pulling back for air. She ignores him and his tone, her hands roaming all over his torso in need and her lips trailing light teasing kisses on his neck, feeling a faint groan vibrate against her lips that makes her smile. “This is a public place, there’s a wedding venue full of people literally meters away and” he uses her shoulders to push her back to look at him, a mischievous glint in his baby blue eyes as he continues in an incredulous whisper “your son is out there.” The five-year-old mini version of him, also dressed in the traditional dress every man is sporting today, left the side of his beloved dad in search for his cousins minutes before Betty had stormed over to abduct him, Jughead being a tad wary to be doing what he assumes his blonde tempress wants them to be doing in a place where the little menace can easily walk in on them while running around.

Betty brings him for another passionate kiss while her hands fist his vest against his hard pecs, her female, more rational and calm nature not getting easily intimidated like him. “It’s a secluded area, everyone is too wrapped up in the champagne that’s going around to notice us gone and our son is playing treasure hunt with Reggie.” She crosses his concerns out one by one, her whole body rubbing deliciously against his, Jughead gripping her hips for dear life as she leaves open-mouthed kisses at his jawline.

“I knew my kid would end up weird.” He murmurs as he looks stoically to the side and sighing, half in comic self-doubt about his parenting and half in arousal that is now creeping in full force because of his wife’s treatment.

“Well, after his growing crush on Cheryl of all people, I think Reggie is the least of our worries.” She replies nonchalantly against his lips, hands cradling his cheeks. “Now, kiss me.” He doesn’t need to be told twice, his lips crash on hers in lightning speed and she whimpers at the taste of beer and true authentic Jughead Jones flavor in her hungry mouth.

“Seriously, Betts, what’s gotten into you?” his words dance in a murmur against her parted lips as they change the angle of their kiss, their bodies pushing and pulling in an intensely compelling manor that has her dizzy and more than ready for him.

“Have you looked yourself in the mirror?” Betty groans in frustration, tugging at his down lip and causing him to buck up against her, following her sinful mouth even if it is barely an inch away from his. She utters her next words in a desperate sigh, slender fingers nesting in his raven locks, as she feels the tale tail heaviness of his hard-on against her stomach. “You’re hot, Jughead Jones, you are my husband and right now I can’t concentrate on anything else but how damn sexy you are, baby.” She moans faintly before kissing him again, bruising and demanding, the flat of her tongue delivering a lewd caress against his that has him groaning and attacking her with more force, his hands on her hips becoming fists and painfully grasping blue silk and tantalizing curves.

The kiss is dirty, full of teeth and tongues and wet sounds and right at this moment she is neither the loving mother of his child nor his superwoman wife. She is the sensuous mistress he always got to have in his bed and that is driving him insane.

But Jughead Jones is a man of control and just like that the tables are turned, Betty’s lungs being left without any ounce of air as she’s now the one trapped between the wall and his hot body.

“Jesus, love, is this about the kilt?” he hisses, pulling back to take her in, swollen, lipstick-free lips, crimson cheeks, eyes deep meadow green from wanton lust. What wins his attention at the end is the up and down movement of her breasts as she pants heavily, silently begging for more.

“It’s about everything that’s under that kilt.” His blonde angel muses in a sultry whisper, circling her center against his growing erection, the action forcing him to chew on his down lip in agony and look up at her with a deep manly sigh. “And under that shirt and inside that beautiful mind and about your hair that is killing me today” she groans around the word for emphasis, throwing her head back before grabbing his chin, manicured nails clawing his clean shaved jawline “and that grin that should definitely be illegal.” Jughead gives her the boyish grin she adores, a tad flattered and a lot turned on by her behavior, Betty leaning up to chastely kiss his grin away. “The Highlander array is just a bonus; a very dirty, fantasy-coming-to-life bonus.” Her eyes are roaming over his body, insatiable and predatory, and she has to have him now, she needs to, or else she will explode in a million tiny pieces because of how much she wants him.

“After fifteen years of being together you never cease to surprise me, Betty Cooper.” Jughead sighs in utter love and devotion, cradling her cheeks, ready for a deep kiss. “God, I love you.” He groans and then there is silence.

Their urgent lips move together in-sync, tongues sliding sexily over one another in a dizzy rhythm, mouths opening wide to fit perfectly together and ravish each other. He is sucking on her bottom lip, biting it, soothing it with sensual swipes of his tongue and she is gasping, yeaning to finally have him inside her, his sinful lips making her wetter by the minute, as she keeps bucking her hips against his in frenzy. Betty gives his tongue a wet and filthy suck, twirling the tip of her own tongue against its tip and Jughead’s cock recognizes the action from all the times she is on her knees or bent over him with her glorious ass in the air, the now painfully erect member twitching between them and making them both moan heavily inside each other’s mouth. A forceful squeeze is delivered against her ass, his fingers digging on the round flesh with vigor and Betty’s teeth graze the inside of his lower lip as her nails scratch his scalp, causing him to growl low in his chest and slap the already irritated skin of her behind.

Their lips disconnect as she moans in bliss, biting her lip to block the sound, Jughead letting a dark chuckle as he goes to unbutton his vest in a hurry.

“No, no, no, don’t unbutton anything, don’t take anything off.” His wife stops him instantly, her soft hands shooting to grab his wrists as he looks at her perplexed with raised eyebrows. “I want you like that, so dapper and gentlemanly handsome, while you fuck me hard and fast like you only know how.” She explains in a dirty whisper, the tip of her tongue curling upwards while swiping sensually across the center of his lips, Jughead pinning her hips to the wall almost painfully.

His lips curl in a wicked smirk. “You want your typical rough treatment, baby girl, don’t you?” he teases her with his hoarse, sex voice and pupils dilated and pitch black because of how much and how rough he wants her. “Hold your dress up for me.” He orders as he braces her against the wall, curling a hand at the back of her knee and hitching her slender leg over his hip. Betty grins flirtatiously, a faux innocent look on her pretty eyes, as she slides her dress up and stops when the hem is barely covering the heat between her thighs.

Jughead curses under his breath; not only does he has the perfect view of her long legs there is also not a single hint of lace. “God, no panties?” his head snaps up to look at her in pleasant surprise, the intensity in his graze making her even weaker in the knees. “Are you trying to kill me, Mrs. Jones?” a teasing smirk plays on his lips, his forehead dropping against hers as his large palm roams from the back of her thigh to the now bare skin of her ass.

“If you haven’t notice this dress is way too formfitting and tight…” Betty shrugs in fake naivety and he would have believed that her intentions were pure if, one, he didn’t know her at all, and two, if her fingers weren’t tugging at the waistband of his kilt, dangerously close to his threatening to explode erection.

“Oh, I’ve noticed.” He breathes against her slightly agape lips. “Trust me, I sure as hell did.” The blue floor-length gown not only complimented her natural beauty but it fitted her like a glove, hugging her curves in a way that had his mouth run dry from the first moment he saw her earlier that evening, not able to stop himself from ogling her during the entire ceremony. This was the first time Jughead felt grateful to Veronica Lodge.

“Too bad that you didn’t feel the need to honor the tradition of no undergarments under a kilt.” Betty pouts in actual disappointment, licking her lips as her eyes flick momentarily at the place that rests against her open legs.

“Flashing the whole town of Riverdale and half the population of New York was not in my evening plans.” Her husband states in his usual sardonic manner, before continuing impishly. “Plus, I didn’t want to force Archie into a serious case of inferiority complex on his wedding night.” The joke holds some male pride but the humor falls short when Betty’s hand drops to grip his long member while she breathes a short giggle.

“Yeah, that you’d definitely do.” Her filthy whisper mingles with his shaky pants as she palms him heavily over the woolen material of the kilt, his hips circling against her tiny hand while he slightly roars and dives for her neck. He is careful not to leave a mark so he just leaves wet trails and goosebumps caused by his hot breath against her skin, an arm curling around her waist to hold her flat against him and the fingers of his free hand sneaking between them. He finds her ridiculously soaked and his teeth close involuntarily around the neckline of her dress against her collarbone, both moaning at the sensation.

“Fuck, babe, you’re dripping.” Jughead looks down with a low groan as he notices even the inside of her thighs glistering with need, watching two of his long fingers slide effortlessly inside her knuckle-deep, stretching her good and proper. She melts against his body and drops her head back with a high-pitch sigh, her hips rising up to meet the push and pull of his fingers, desperate to ease her dark desire.

Betty grabs his wrist and looks at him with hooked eyes. “Inside me. Get inside me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. His fingers slip out of her burning heat, waist arching in a perfect bow at the loss of contact, before they get buried again but this time inside the wet abyss of her mouth. Betty groans at the sudden and filthy invasion and Jughead does too in a sexual haze as he feels her nibble and suck and bite his skin until there is not a single drop of her feminine essence on them. She frees them with a wet pop that causes his already foggy mind to short-circuit before his lips attack hers, Jughead tasting the salty flavor of her arousal on her tongue, a naughty sensation that always has him yearning to pound into her raw and rough until she isn’t able to walk straight.

Together they work on getting rid of his boxers all the while practically eating each other out passionately, his black underwear finally sliding down his legs to pool on his polished shoes in careless abandon. Betty pushes the offending material of his kilt against his flexing abs in a hurry and when his iron hard cock lands with a delicious tap against her sensitive clit they both lose it, her gasping loudly and him grunting inside their heated kiss.

He slides into her all the way with a hard trust, the delicious fullness of his hard member making her legs shiver and her mouth open in a shocked soundless moan. She is soaking wet and burning hot and Jughead feels his own knees buck at the sensation as he begins thrusting inside her, curt and intense, drawing out of her lips filthy moans and erotic sighs. One of her hands sneaks behind him and grips his ass, fingers digging on the tartan material to urge him forward faster, deeper, each time buried to the hilt and grazing that sweet spot that he always finds expertly and makes her lose any sense of sanity.

“More, Juggie, please. Fuck me harder.” She is a whimpering mess as she withers against him, her eyebrows knitted together in pleasure and her lips open wide, and of course he can’t resist her, he grabs her hips for leverage and he starts pounding into her forcefully and wild, licking the droplets of sweat that run down the front of her neck while groaning at how tight she is around his throbbing cock.

“You like that, baby girl, huh?” he wants to bite her, mark her, litter her with bloody red love bites and his teeth graze her pulse point, her tiny muscles sucking him inside her as a reflex, causing him to utter a sinful fuck against her skin. His calloused hand slides at the other side of her neck and then sneaks at the back of it, undoing the knot that holds her pretty dress and yanking the neckline down, her right breast escaping the silk prison with a mouthwatering jiggle. “Shit, baby, you are so sexy.” Jughead spats coarsely, voice deep and raspy from the sexual haze he is in. His thump moves to toy with the exposed and perky nipple, rubbing tightly and then pitching the sensitive nerve-ending, and Betty’s leg that is still on the ground holding her weight gives out as she moans loudly, Jughead wrapping their lips in a wet kiss to shush her.

With his nails digging at the back of her other thigh, he urges both her legs to wrap around his waist, her holding him captive inside her hotness and him effortlessly holding her up against the wall. He claims her lips once again and they both moan in unison as his cock finds a new angle inside her, rubbing whatever it is that makes her long legs shivering violently and her head a mess of foggy clouds.

“You’re taking me so deep, Betts; you’re always so fucking good to me.” He continues with the dirty talk they both overly enjoy, burning her inside and out and quickening his now forceful thrusts, Betty biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, knowing all too well how vocal she always is and certainly not wanting to cause a scene.

“Right there, please…” she whines, eyes closed and frown in tack, her lips opening in a silent large O, as her head is thrown back and her golden locks cascade down her waist. “A little bit more…” Her nails are clawing the soft material of his pristine white shirt on his biceps, the flexing of his strong muscles as he holds her up tightening the knot low in her abdomen. His thick member feels heavenly inside her, her clit is brushing teasingly against his adbomen and the itchy material of the plaid kilt is offering a weird but all together incredible sensation against the soft skin of her thighs, leaving her minutes away from seeing every star and every planet behind her shut eyelids.

Betty orders herself to look at him; he is leaning against her tall and trim, only slightly disheveled and with that Scottish attire intact, looking like the definition of a gentleman but fucking her like an animalistic caveman. Every on point thrust of his hips, every flick of his thump against her hard nipple, every hoarse moan and every deep pant appears to be effortless, calculated to bring her immense pleasure, like he is a natural at fucking her brains out and, damn straight, he is and Betty can feel the upcoming high of her climax right through her bones. The long moan that escapes her next can make any porn star feel self-conscious.

Jughead’s grunt is nearly painful. “Come on, do it, squeeze the fuck out of me.” His forehead drops on her chin and he looks down to where they are connected, his legs buckling at the image of his hard cock glistering with how wet he makes her as it disappears in and out of her in a rapacious manner. His thump comes to rub her clit with no mercy, Betty anchoring herself from his shoulder blades with a low erotic sigh, her toes curling and her body stiffening as he is getting her right on the edge.

“Come. Come hard around me, baby.” He murmurs on her neck before biting hard on her jawline and giving her one harder thrust, his wife shaking to oblivion as her orgasm crashes violently, her back arching right to his face and her hips spasming again and again from all the high he is offering her. A long deep moan of his name escapes her and Jughead clasps a hand against her mouth to block the sound, feeling his own self tiptoeing on the edge when she bites on the inside of his middle finger, her sultry muffled sounds turning all his blood into a fountain of lust.

Betty can feel him twitching inside her through her own waves of pleasure and his thrusts getting demanding and sloppy as his heavy breaths quicken and deepen, a sign she came to recognize many years ago as his upcoming undoing.

“Do it, Juggie.” she leans to whisper against his ear, still spasming from the aftershocks of her intense orgasm, her muscles tight as a vice around his pulsing cock, coaxing his release. “Come and let me feel you inside me.” And that’s all it takes for him to comply, her warm wetness, her filthy words and her erotic sighs, his release erupting in full force as he stills inside of her, his fingers bruising her hips and his mouth leaving deep manly grunts against the hollow of her collarbone.

They take some minutes to slow down their heartbeats and relish in the feeling of this blissful aching, Jughead pulling back from her neck once his breathing is close to normal to offer her a sated lopsided smile before kissing her lazily but sensual, once she reciprocates it with a lightheaded slime of her own. He reluctantly pulls out of her, both complaining at the loss of skin to skin contact inside their slow make out that ends after a while with some loving pecks. With a satisfied sigh Jughead reaches down where Betty’s beige and gold clutch is abandoned, retrieving some tissues to clean the both of them, not even trying to hide the proud smirk that still curls on his lips every time at the evidence of him against her glistering center, this time that smirk being intensified by the sight of redness at the inside of her creamy thighs due to the rough material of his kilt. They smile at each other in a knowing manner and then he lowers her to the ground, helping her with securing the knot that holds her neckline of her dress up behind her neck while she fixes the rest of her appearance.

Jughead is moments away from sliding his boxers up his legs but she is faster than him, yanking them off his legs, almost making him trip on his own feet. When he sees her twirling the material around her pointer in a teasing manner, he raises an eyebrow at her.

“I’m keeping those.” Betty informs him cockily, folding his underwear hastily and shoving it into her clutch. Jughead goes to object, terrified about the possibility of him walking around in a crowded venue with nothing securing his manhood, but she curls her arms around his neck, brushing her lips against his. “The night is still young, dear husband; and this was only a small preview.” Her tone is sexy and full of promises, her hand sneaking down to cheekily squeeze his butt while winking at him, and Jughead reluctantly smirks intrigued down at her as a shiver runs down his spine, the little minx leaving a sugary sweet kiss against his slight parted mouth.

She turns to leave just as a loud commotion starts echoing amongst the crowd at the wedding reception. He watches her go, the clicking of her heels tantalizing him just as much as the extra sway on her hips, his beautiful wife patting the side of her head to smooth any wild locks ruining her hairstyle and betraying their naughty shenanigans, throwing him an authentic Betty Cooper smile over her shoulder, the smile he fell in love with when he was five and he didn’t quite know that his life would turn out to be so brilliant.

He smiles back, boyish and youthful, a single thought creeping around his still disorientated mind.

“God, my wife is hot.”

Klaine Advent 2016: Day 3 Charm

Day 3: Charm

Kurt and Burt adjusting to Blaine in season 2. 3145 words

It’s the thing people said about Blaine, or so it seemed to Kurt. Right after “dapper” and before “gentlemanly,” they would say it—“He’s so charming!” And Kurt had to admit he was so in agreement with them; it was something he was proudest of about this boy. He felt sometimes like walking around Lima with Blaine was like being wrapped up in a cloud of that charm. Faces that used to be closed off to him, eyebrows raised, now were softened and welcoming.

Just on one outing on a pretty spring afternoon, three different shopkeepers had smiled and said, “Keep the change” to Blaine. I mean, who did that? And the lady in the jewelry store actually found some Easter wrapping paper to add a special touch to his present for his mama; when Blaine went for his wallet to tip her, she had actually blushed as she stopped him with a manicured hand to his forearm.

“That was weird,” Kurt said as they waited in line at the Sundae Shoppe.

“Hmmm?” Blaine questioned with his eyebrows as he bent over the bag containing his purchases.

“Mrs. Sims in the jewelry store. I’d swear she was flirting with you, but, I mean, she’s at LEAST 30.”

“Maybe she has spring fever, Kurt,” Blaine replied. “I know I certainly do. Or maybe it’s the company. I think you should always wear just exactly that shade of blue. It really brings out your eyes.”

Okay, so maybe those people had a point. He was charming and dreamy, and Kurt’s insides were melting with pleasure AGAIN. He longed to grab his boyfriend’s hand or steal a kiss. He settled with looking down and blushing. “Watch it mister. Flattery will get you—”

“A ride home, I hope?” Blaine asked, leaning close to whisper, “And some makeout time in the driveway? Kitchen? My room?”

The one person in Kurt’s life who didn’t seem to be taken by Blaine’s charm was Kurt’s dad. Kurt couldn’t blame him, actually. Finding a boy—an obviously hungover boy—in your child’s bed sort of had a way of killing any positive first impressions. Not that he DISLIKED him, really. But even after Kurt danced through the door from Dalton, with the news that he had a boyfriend, a delightful boyfriend, the best boyfriend, Burt still seemed to hold Blaine at arm’s length.

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anonymous asked:

Hey i'll fight you with short hair + kilt. Hot damn. Funny my twitter is like - one day hey Sam grow up! Next day- fuck you're hot. I am a mess. And Cait? I hate you, you lucky you! His stubbles are plus points too! I am like the EW police "he's way more than muscles" and here I am drooling. Sorry just a girl 😿

hahahahhahahah we are the SAME person anon

Originally posted by alex-hearts-piper