Chibs has grown used to the "youngins" hitting on you and such. He used to be quick to swing but your calming nature had him using patience and words a little more often now than his fist. This time though he puts the young man through one of the tables. It's hard to say whose more shocked between the three of you. "Think you can do her better Laddie?" Chibs chuckles darkly as he shakes his head at the trembling man under him. "Why don't you join me and my Ole Lady here in the bedroom. One of us can learn some pointers".

Happy turned away from the pool table when he heard the new prospects response to your decline of a date. Your wide eyed expression, tight smile and nervous chuckle when his eyes met yours told him he had in fact heard the idiot correctly. It was nothing to the prospects expression as he turned to see who you were looking at. Happy simply rolled his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other for a moment before speaking. "I'm her bitch boyfriend.

Jax is swinging fists before the guy knows what is happening. He demands the guy to answer him between every hard blow. "Think I'm still a bitch?" Are you blind? Couldn't see her crow? The ring?" "Did you miss my arm around her waist?". Jax only relents when Chibs and Opie pull him off the guy. Without another word he pulls you to the dorm hallway to relieve some more of his anger in a more enjoyable way.

Half-Sack is quick to be in the guys face. Newly patched he feels he has a lot to prove still. He makes it clear he doesn't need a gun to win a fight. Which does not last long and leaves the guy hitting on you knocked out and being dragged out of the clubhouse by Happy.

At first Tig thinks you and Kozik are playing a joke on him when you two tell him what happened inside while you were getting a drink. The two of you loved to rile him up and play jokes on him. He also can't wrap his mind around who in their right mind would tell his gorgeous, pregnant wife that she could do better and they could do her better. Especially not after you two had been together for ten years. The tears that start to well up though have him up on his feet and inside, dragging the man out by his kutte. Once he gets your nod of confirmation he pulls him toward the ring.

Opie while usually level headed and one to think things through before reacting. Can't help but to punch the guy in his face before he can even get his sentence out. While he agrees with the guy that you can in fact do better than an outlaw biker, no one else gets to say it.

Kozik would have let it slide. Being called a bitch and stuff did not bother him. What bothered him was how uncomfortable you got and how the guy would not back off. The quiet whisper of his government name from your lips had him grabbing the offending guy into a chokehold and yanking him out of the clubhouse to teach him a lesson on respect.

Rat had his teeth gritted as he served drinks from behind the bar. Still being a prospect he was limited on what he could do to a patched member, let alone the VP of another visiting charter. "You have my permission to handle that" stated Jax as he came around the bar, having heard what was happening. Rat nodded his head in appreciation before yanking the guy over the bar top. There were perks to dating the sister of the mother charters President.

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Even when she died when you were only a little thing, even as you grew up without her, even as grief became an easier burden to bear and you were left with only her book of bedtime stories that she’d scribbled just for you.

And for years, that’s all they were.

Stories, fairy tales a mother made up to amuse her little daughter and lull her to sleep on a stormy night. What else would they be? After all, how could a dream become a person and wander around, collecting treasure and meeting monsters and falling in love with cursed knights? It wasn’t until you turned sixteen and your grandparents gave you her diaries that you finally learned the truth of those stories. She’d been your age when she’d started keeping them, all written as letters to her future daughter (because she was so certain she was having a daughter one day), left to you in her will. It was only then that you found three things:

One was the list.

Every so often, when your mother experienced something, she would write “love, one day you have to…” and in time, you had enough to make a list. 132 things that your mother thought you should do and you were going to do them all, no matter how crazy or weird or wild it was, you’d do everything she’d wanted you to do.

The second was the truth.

All of the stories your mother had told you weren’t just fairy tales. They were the story of her life, or rather, a part of it. After graduating from college, your mother had hit the road on a coast-to-coast road trip for over a year, from her home state of Virginia all the way to California and meandering wherever her heart seemed to take her.

She was Dream, the Road Long and Desolate was the map she’d followed, and all of the things she’d told you were real things, just made up to sound prettier.

The third and final thing was your father:

Filip Telford.

You only knew a few things about him. No address, nothing to chase down, not really. Mostly she’d written about their love and you’d gathered details from that. You knew his name (apparently he had some nickname but she’d never called him that, not when she liked the sound of Filip on her lips so much), where he lived (a little town in California called Charming, just like the story), the fact that he liked motorcycles and whiskey and starlight. He would watch the stars with your mother and dance with her in the kitchen to love songs and bring her wildflowers.

He called her his dove.

He loved playing with her hair and kissing her neck.

Sometimes they would ride away on his bike in the middle of the night and lay beneath the stars and just be in love.

But in the end, he’d cheated on her with a “crow eater” (which was such an odd insult and you wondered if that was why she’d called this other woman a snake in her story) and she’d left town that very night after walking in on them, never to see him again. Even when she’d changed her mind and decided to try to contact him, your mother hadn’t had the time to make things right. In her last diary and the last of the entries, she’d decided to find Filip and tell him about you.

It was written shortly before she died.

And you knew then that, if you really wanted to follow in your mother’s footsteps and do the things she’d wanted you to do, then you had to do this.

You had to find your father.

It was the last thing she’d wanted for you, to have a father. To know Filip and be loved by him as she had once been so long ago. And it was then that you started dreaming a dream...you’d go to school, get your degree, and graduate, the way your grandparents wanted you to do. A teaching degree was enough to please them in the end and you were happy to have it. But afterwards, you’d follow the road she’d once driven and finally find your father, the way your mother wanted you to do. For years and years, you’d waited and dreamed for this moment but now, the night before your birthday, it was finally time to go.

You’d packed up your old blue pickup, with a trunk of your things strapped in the back.

Beside you on the front seat was a backpack with the most important things in your life: a book of stories, a box of beautiful things, and a journal full of your mother’s memories, her scribbles and photographs within.

Stopping for a moment, you smiled at your favorite picture, the one of your mom and dad together in the California desert.

She was holding the camera and he was holding her, looking at one another in an almost kiss.

It had been their last night together...the last time they’d ridden out into the desert to look at the stars, the last time they’d kissed, the last picture she’d taken of him before she’d left. In a way, it was the last time he’d held you too, his hand on your mother’s belly, your father never knowing that you were within.

But maybe that was about to change.

Maybe it was the dreamer in you but you’d always thought that, if you’d ever found your father, that he’d be looking for you too. Maybe not outright, he didn’t even know you existed. But maybe in his heart, Filip Telford had always wanted a daughter and, when you walked through the door and told him who you were, he’d smile and love you the way your mother once had. And it was that dream that kept you driving down that long and desolate road for a week, stopping along the way to mark something off of your list here and there, the car trouble slowing you down.

But now you had made it.

Even though the car had given the ghost a mile back and you’d been forced to walk the rest of the way, you’d finally reached it:

Charming, California.

Standing by the small sign welcoming you to the town, a single, lonely crow looked at you with the darkest eye before bursting off into the midnight sky. Clouds masked the stars and the moon, casting darkness over everything as you walked alone into the silent streets of Charming. The photos your mother had taken suddenly came to life before your eyes, stopping to watch in wonder for a moment…

Time had touched this place very little.

Small changes had been made here and there, a bar turned into a diner, one shop closed and another opened, but everything had remained the same. Somewhere far away you could hear music and rowdy laughter and drunken bickering, the delighted squeals of women mixing with the cries of crows.

You knew that you should remain on task...find your hotel, call a mechanic to do something about your truck.

But the sight of Charming had your heart stirring, memories of your mother’s writings and pictures coming back to you. There was one thing, just one thing you wanted to do first. Just this one thing and then you’d try to be sensible.

But where to go…

The little diner towards the left, to try to get on the rooftop to see the stars?

Whirling around and smothering a scream, you were surprised to see a man you hadn’t even noticed before, too lost in your plans and hopes for a moment to even see him there in the dark.

But you saw him just fine now, leaning against the wall with a beer in hand and a wry grin. He was tall, very tall, and skinny with taunt muscles, big, dark eyes looking at you and dark hair that hung across his forehead in a messy-cute kind of way and a nicely scruffy face, his features very sharp yet very sweet.

He was cute. Really cute.

But you were trying not to think about that as you looked between the rooftop and the ground, thinking it over.

“You don’t think I’d make it?” you asked carefully.

“No, I think you’d break your neck or get stuck up there,” he replied simply. “There’s no way you’re making it up there with that ladder.”

Tossing the empty beer bottle in a nearby dumpster, he walked closer and grinned at you, offering a hand in greeting. It was warm and calloused, with a few scars littered across pale skin, the hand of a man who knew hard work.

“Ratboy.”

“Is that your actual name or…”

“It’s a nickname. What are you even trying to get up there for anyway?”

“Photography.” you explained, pulling your camera out of your bag. It was old but still in good enough condition and, hey, it worked just fine. Besides, you loved it. “I wanted to get a shot overlooking Charming.”

“Why not go inside and ask to use the stairs? They got a door leading up to the roof.”

“I wasn’t sure if they'd even let me up there.”

“Good point,” Ratboy replied, thinking it over. “But they’d let me. If you want the help, I mean”

And even though you’d just met the guy, you did want the help. There was something about him that told you the offer was genuine. He wasn’t making fun of you. He wasn’t trying to trick you or get something out of it. There was something honest in those dark eyes as he looked at you, unable to stop yourself from smiling softly.

“Thank you.”

He was right to.

Ratboy just walked in, told them that he was going up to the roof and you were with him, and that was that. No one said a damn thing, hell, most people looked away quickly, as though they didn’t want to be involved in whatever the two of you were up to. You almost laughed at the thought because all you were doing up there was taking pictures as Ratboy hung out by the door, smoking a cigarette. You could feel him looking at you and even caught him at it once or twice, but he always quickly looked away, as though he were more interested in the skyline.

“So, you from around here then?”

“No,” you said, taking another picture. “I’m from Virginia, actually.”

“What the hell are you doing all the way out here?”

“A road trip! Just graduated college so I thought I’d celebrate. Have myself a little adventure.”

“Still, Charming? It’s not like we’re some big tourist destination. You got family in town or something?”

“No, but...my mom came here. A long, long time ago. So I wanted to come here too and see everything she saw. My car may have not survived the drive but, hey, at least I made it.”

“That’s your truck then?”

“If you’re talking about the ancient blue truck out on the road, yeah, that’s mine. Speaking of, is there a mechanic in town?”

“Yeah, I work for ‘em. Teller-Morrow. We can take care of it, if you like. I’ll go and ride my bike out there in the morning, take a look to see if I can figure out the problem, and have it towed back to the shop.”

“Your bike?”

Instantly you were thinking of the list, specifically number seventeen: Ride a motorcycle.

“Like, bicycle or motorcycle?” you asked.

“Motorcycle,” Ratboy grinned, happily rambling about his bike for a little bit.

He wasn’t like the one idiot you’d gone to high school with, the rich kid that bragged about his shiny new motorcycle but didn’t actually care about it, crashing at least three (as well as two cars, it was a miracle that he hadn’t killed anybody), his daddy buying him a new one every time. No, Ratboy was a bike guy. A real one. He cared about his machine, clearly, and was happy to talk about it. And you were happy to listen, sitting on the ledge of the roof together now.

“So you like a little adventure too, I take it?”

“Sure, sure,” he replied, grinning again. “Why? You lookin’ for a ride?”

“Yes...but no. But yes.”

“Do you or don’t you?”

You looked at him for a moment, wondering if Ratboy was the type of person who would get it.

Since making the list, you’d come to realize that there were two types of reactions to it: the people who got it (Kiwi and Alice, your life-long best friends, and Claudia, your college roommate and a newer best friend, they were always up to help with the list) and the people who didn’t get it and thought it was ridiculous/weird/crazy (your grandparents a little bit, some idiot you’d dated for two seconds, and many of the people in your too small, too gossipy hometown).

But he would get it, wouldn’t he?

Ratboy had a touch of ridiculous/weird/crazy to him, just as your mother had and just as you did too.

“My mom died when I was little,” you started, stopping him before he offered a condolence you’d already heard a million times before. “Trust me, I’m going somewhere with this. She died but she had all these diaries she wrote to her future daughter and in them, she’d do something and write all about it and then tell me that I’d have to do it someday. So I’m doing it. I put it all in a list and I’ve been checking them all ever since.”

“And riding a motorcycle is one of them?”

“Number seventeen, to be exact.”

“I can do that for you. Give you a ride, if you wanted me to.”

“I do. Even though it totally freaks me out it’s...not the craziest thing on the list.”

“I think I need to take a look at that list,” he grinned.

You were starting to really like Ratboy’s grin. It was a little sweet and a little wicked, a touch of trouble to him. God, he was something, wasn’t he?

“I’ll show it to you sometime.”

“Tomorrow,” he offered. “I’ll give you a ride and take a look at that truck of yours and you show me the list.”

“Deal.”

Walking back down together, he knew the way to the motel you were staying at for the foreseeable future and walked with you. It was a nice night. The air was cool and sweet, a slight breeze wandering through and bringing with it the scent of distant wildflowers and cheap beer and cactus that hovered softly. You were starting to see why your mother had liked it here so much. Charming was...well, charming. In a roughly sweet sort of way. Ratboy walked close to you, close enough to smell his cologne and feel the heat from his body as you stood in front of your hotel room door, lingering for a moment.

“Thank you,” you said softly. “For everything, I’m not used to people being so cool about my crazy.”

“Hey, I’m cool,” Ratboy replied, laughing a little. “I’m so cool! And when I see a crazy girl trying to climb up to a roof after her truck breaks down in the middle of nowhere, I help her out. So I’ll meet you tomorrow, around nine?”

Turning away, you watched him walk down the street as you opened the hotel room door, his voice echoing a little as he walked away.

“George,” he says over his shoulder, glancing back at you.

“What?”

“My real name is George Skogstrom. But everyone calls me Ratboy.”

Someday, you were gonna ask him why exactly he’d gotten that sort of name. But for now, you just smiled at him, repeating the names silently in your mind.

“I’m Y/N.”

Heading inside, you laid in bed and thought about him. Ratboy. George Skogstrom. You liked both his names and his grin and his hard, pretty eyes surrounded by those surprisingly long lashes. Texting with Kiwi and Claudia, you didn’t tell them about Rat. Not yet. You wanted to keep him to yourself for a little while longer, just telling them about your truck breaking down (ugh!) and finally making it to Charming (yay!) and how you still didn’t know the first step in the “potentially finding your father plan” but you had a handle on the other stuff at least.

And you had the list.

Digging around in your backpack, you pulled out the green journal you’d kept yourself, the first few pages scribbled with the list that had ruled your life for years, and turned to the next goal:

17: RIDE A MOTORCYCLE.

And you thought of Ratboy until you fell asleep, dreaming of crows and butterflies and the endless desert sky over a long and desolate road…

~

You’d been up for hours before nine finally rolled around, getting everything in order. The job you’d lined up for your stay in Charming was ready to go, your motel room was paid for a couple months in advance, and you were pretty sure that a black top, jean shorts with the cute butterfly back pockets over ripped stockings, and black boots was a good look for your plans.

Not that you were trying to dress up or anything.

But Ratboy certainly seemed to approve, noticing his dark eyes giving you a good, long glance when he thought you weren’t looking.

“You ready to go?”

“Totally terrified but totally ready.”

“You’ll be fine,” Ratboy promised. “I’ll go slow.”

But slow for him was still wild for you, arms around his waist as you rode together through Charming, his body hot beneath your hands. You rather liked the touch of Ratboy beneath your hands, finding the terrifying motorcycle ride a little less terrifying when clutching him. It was over sooner than expected, finding the old blue truck sitting just as you’d left it:

Covered in dust, the hood propped up, and totally helpless, Rat helped you off the bike and grinned a little when you stumbled, catching you with rough hands.

“So, you like it now?”

“No,” you replied, still unsteady. “and yes?”

He laughed and you rather liked the sound of it, grinning as you finally steadied yourself. The truck, as rat declared after poking around under the hood, was certainly salvageable. Old but sturdy, just in need of a couple of parts.

“They’re older parts,” Rat explained, cleaning the grease from his hands. “and harder to find, but I’ll find ‘em.”

“What happens now?”

“I’ll have your truck towed back to the shop and take it from there. Think I can get some parts from Nevada, I got a guy. Bobby can tow it to the shop for you and I’ll get to work. It could take a good while to get her up and running though.”

“How much do you think this will set me back? I’ve got money and I’ve got a job lined up since I’m staying a while but I think I’d like to have an idea of it”

“Can’t really give that to you until I’ve taken a better look but...you might be in Charming longer than you expected. And it might be expensive.”

There wasn’t anything else to be done for the truck for now.

So you sat together in the shade of the cab, showing Ratboy the list you’d written forever ago in black pen.

“Did your mom tell you to come here?”

“She didn’t. But she loved Charming so much that she almost stayed. The whole trip was about doing my list but also seeing all the places she saw too and Charming was the last place before she went home and had me. I grew up with her stories about the trip, all dressed up to be a fairytale for a little kid. Honestly, reading the actual version of it all in her diaries was a little jarring. But it’s what started the list...”

“I could help you with it, if you want. The list, I mean. I could give you a tattoo, take you camping under the stars, you could...flash me? What the fuck?”

You laughed wildly and he did too, half-baffled and half-amused.

“She was pretty young when she wrote a lot of this. And pretty wild. My mom was...amazing.”

“Sounds like it.”

So lost in thought about your mom, you hadn’t noticed the way Ratboy was looking at you, not until you looked away from the desert sky and back to him, catching the softness in his dark eyes.

“Guess you're gonna be sticking around town longer than you thought, huh?”

“I guess so.”

But you were both smiling softly, heart thundering in your chest as you began to wonder if this was what your mother had seen when she’d come here all of those years ago and met your father for the first time.

~

“What’s up with you, Ratty?”

Ratboy looked up from his phone, Happy’s voice pulling him out of his own head. And his phone. He and Y/N had been texting all night long, hanging out by a half-open window and drinking a beer and he grinned to himself and thought up (hopefully) charming things to say.

Was he charming?

He wasn’t sure, dating didn’t come easy to him.

But whatever he was doing, Y/N sure seemed to like it. They were almost always together these days, becoming closer with each passing beat of time, and when they weren’t together, he was texting her.

Or talking to her on the phone.

Or looking at pictures of her.

Or thinking about her.

And clearly, the club had noticed his absent mind and stolen smiles, Happy finally bringing it up tonight and the others stifled laughter.

“Whatta mean, Hap?”

“You been running around lately, smiling like an idiot. So what’s on your mind?”

He could have walked away. Or made something up. But he wanted to talk about Y/N, to be able to brag about the beautiful woman he’d met. He hadn’t gotten a chance to bring her up at all, beyond talking to Bobby about her truck.

“Y/N.”

At once the club was filled with howling laughter, somebody clapping his back real hard, a couple others teasing him.

“Which one is she?” Tig asked, motioning to the girls hanging around the club.

“No, no, she’s not from around here, you know? Y/N’s real good, real pretty. You’d like her.”

“You like her then?”

“I like her a lot,” Ratboy grinned, taking another sip of his beer.

“Hell, I should have known it was a girl,” Happy laughed. “What else would it be?”

“Y/N...hey, doesn’t she work at the little diner? The one Jackie runs?”

The Sons of Anarchy were more than familiar with Angel’s, the little diner named for Jack Walter’s late wife. They’d run it together for years and years and he’d kept it going after she’d passed, an old fashioned stop that was open 24 hours, staffed by sweet-yet-sassy waitresses, and served the best damned apple pie in the world. They went there often enough, club members and crow eaters alike passing through the door. And they’d certainly noticed the new face wearing the familiar forest green dress and neat white apron, smiling sweetly but brushing off their flirtation.

Because of Ratboy.

They all came to the same quiet conclusion that they didn’t have a chance with her because she was too loyal to Ratboy.

And they liked that at once.

So no one was surprised when, a few days later, a few of the boys were dragging Ratboy out of the club together, laughing and carrying on loudly, except for Ratty, of course, who didn’t have a damn clue about what was going on.

~

“Hey, hey, what’s-”

“We check out Ratty’s girl!” Jax laughed. “And pie. We want pie too.”

And they were checking you out, just a little bit. You certainly noticed the bikers sneaking a few appreciative looks, though you didn’t seem to care at all. It was only Ratboy you were looking at, smiling so sweetly when you caught his eyes, the boys softly howling, punching his arm.

“You were right,” Jax grinned. “She’s really pretty.”

“And you got it real bad,” Tig quipped, earning a roaring laugh from the lot of them.

Even Chibs seemed to like you.

Or at least Ratboy thought that was what the older man was thinking. Chibs couldn’t seem to look away from you, an almost shocked expression painted across his face as he watched you move through the diner. For a moment, Rat thought that he looked...younger. Younger and softer and almost hurt. But the expression faded away the moment Ratboy spoke up.

“Chibs? You alright?”

“Fine,” he coughed, taking a drink from his flask. “Just fine.”

Ratboy forgot about it as quickly as the others did. The bikers stayed until closing time, everybody clearing out, a little drunk and a little rowdy. Except for Rat. He stayed in the booth, sipping on a beer and helping you close up for the night.

“So...what do you think?”

“Of your friends?”

“Yeah, I mean, do you like ‘em?”

“I do,” you laughed, looking up at him as you wiped down the counter. “They’re rough but sweet, in their own sort of way. What do they think of me?”

“That you’re really pretty.”

Walking you home, an arm slung over your shoulder, Ratboy found himself working up the courage to bring up something that had been on his mind for a while. Maybe it was the fact that the boys approved of you. Maybe it was the beer. Or maybe it was the way your head was leaning against his shoulder, the sweet scent of your perfume filling the late night.

“We should do something for your list,” Rat finally said. “And go on a date. If you wanted to.”

He hadn’t actually taken you out on a date, had he?

It had mostly been hanging out and making out, which was awesome and he could do that forever, but...he wanted something more. And he was hoping that you did too, dark eyes glancing down at you quickly, clearing his throat.

“A date?”

“Yeah, I mean...if that’s something you’d like.”

“We could go to a nightclub, right?” you asked. “It’s on the list and it’s a date sort of thing.”

“Gotta warn you, I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh, I don’t care about that. I just wanna wear a little black dress and make out with you and you’re pretty good at that sort of thing.”

Ratboy tried to pretend that he wasn’t blushing as hard as he thought he was, bringing you to your motel room. The two of you talked a little longer, stealing a sip of his beer and giving him a kiss in exchange.

“Tomorrow night, then?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow night.”

Half-way down the street, Ratboy was lost in thoughts of little black dresses and the best clubs to bring a girl to when a soft voice cut through his fantasies like a switchblade.

“Hey, George?”

“Woman,” Ratboy scolded and laughed all together, “nobody calls me-”

But he shut up, choking on his words when he caught sight of you leaning out the window. Neat little apron cast aside, your green buttoned-up dress had been unbuttoned, perfect tits out for anyone (but luckily, only him) to see.

Number 30 on your list:

Flash somebody.

“Sweet dreams, honey,” you called out, closing the window.

You’d left him love struck, shaking so bad he had to lean against the nearest building and smiling so hard it hurt, grinning like a damned idiot. Fuck, fuck, holy fuck...Tig was right, wasn’t he? Rat had it bad for you and he was too happy to care about anything else, stumbling home with that stupid, happy, I’m-in-love sort of look painted across his face. Falling into bed, he pulled out that cheap phone and looked again at the picture of you, asking himself silent…

“Soooooo. Do I still get three wishes? I mean it was an honest mistake. Like I said I was trying to summon a Genie” you stated offering an innocent smile as you clasped your hands behind your back making your shirt tighten over your breast. “I truly didn’t mean to bother” you started before Rat cut you off.

“Again. I am a demon” he stated though gritted teeth as he tapped one of his horns with a claw. Your heart sped up as you watched his eyes start to redden. “So no. No wishes” he growled as he swiped his tail across the floor between you as you bent to grab the planchette, sending both it and the board flying across the attic. You jumped and tensed as his tail snaked around your waist squeezing just enough to warn you against any silliness.

You stood trembling slightly as he stepped closer raising your chin up with one of his claws. You whimpered slightly as you felt the point of it push into your skin.Though you weren’t sure if it was from pain or pleasure as heat coursed through your veins. “What game are you playing at? You no better than anyone the rules of our realm. You have to use lamps for genies and you don’t call a demon by their true name for fun” he stated as he wound his tail tighter around you moving it up to smooth a piece of hair back from your face.

“I didn’t…” you started before he clamped the tip of his tail over your mouth as he smirked as he watched you squirm. “Please don’t lie again to me. Match your words to your scent” stated Rat as he let his claw slide down your neck and onto your shirt slicing through it. “Opps” he stated as your eyes widened but you made no move to cover yourself. It would be silly as this is exactly what you wanted.

“I want you. For a while” you stated as your hand moved to gently stroke the tip of his tail once he had removed it from your mouth. “I just didn’t know how to say it. Then being friends with Jax and being off limits I figured it wouldn’t work” you added making him chuckle as his tail twitched in your hand.

“I’d have made it work” he stated pulling you closer before he leaned in to kiss you. You moaned into the kiss giving him access to your mouth, his tongue snaking in to meet yours. You felt like your whole body was on fire as his hands held your face and yours roamed his chest. Rat pulled back slightly panting. “Hold on” he stated before the air was filled with a whoosing and his lips back on yours.

Next thing you knew you were laying naked under Rat still kissing on a bed. The heavy scent of Rat told you he had taken you to his house which made you smile into the kiss before pulling back. “I think you wanted me too” you whispered as you looked up at him his eyes dark with lust as he licked his lips. “A little” he whispered as he nipped at your neck making you arch back up into him. He groaned into your neck as his cocks slid through your wet folds. “So wet already” he murmured as he kissed down to your navel, claws resting against your inner thighs.

The feel of his tongue against your core had your back arching as you moaned his name. He groaned into you as he licked every drop of your essence up, grinding his leaking cocks into his mattress. Your hands on his horns had him hissing in pleasure as you stroked them and used them to grind on his face. Angels didn’t sing as sweetly as you moaned and cried underneath him as he sent you soaring over the edge into an ocean of pleasure. Your thighs clamped tightly around his head as he kept working you with his tongue, letting your pleasure ride out a little longer.

Once he finally pulled from you he kissed his way back up your body. Once his lips found yours you moaned at the taste of your arousal on his lips. Pushing against his chest you met his confused eyes. Licking your lips, you smiled up at him. “I want to ride you” you stated breathlessly.

A few minutes later you Rat was under you with both his cocks buried deep inside you as you rocked your hips. His eyes drifting from your face to the bulge in your belly as his cocks moved in and out. His claws digging into your hips as he tried not to take over. “So fucking beautiful” he moaned as he felt you clamp around him as your eyes rolled back with another moan of his name. Your walls fluttered and clamped around him tightly forcing his own release from him. Grunting and calling your name he shot cum in hot thick ropes deep inside of you. He continued to fuck you until you flopped down on his chest panting.

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