Psychopaths can't love, that's for sure. But what could be so wrong about liking one anyway?
This is the rather long (Like, I'm warning you, it's over 400 pages in type 11 writing...So be prepared)fanfiction with a lot of edge, angst and smut. Lot'...
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Who does she think she is to you? Some kind of God like figure just because she fixed you up? She could crawl back to Overwatch tomorrow and complain to Jack that you were a lost case if she felt the need to, but you wouldn't show her any pity for her emotional garbage. Upset, and somewhat furious you walked back to the bath where you had last left Rat to be alone for a moment. To your genuine surprise he was still there, still leaning against the wall the same way you had left him. He glanced at you when you walked into the room, you knew he could tell how fed up you where as you energetically slammed the door after entering the room.
He snickers and crosses his arms over his chest as you march over to him with a bitter expression and a plethora of curses being hushed under your breaths. "Did the little German darl give you a hard time?" The Aussie inquires, making you reply with frantic nodding as you stand in front of him silently, head rested against his collar. You couldn't comprehend Angela's behavior towards you, you were not her daughter, not her friend, not her lover; she was nothing and no one to you. And still, all she wanted was to see you in good hands, it made you sick how anyone could be so selflessly caring.
How could anyone be so selflessly stupid, so naive, so believing that everyone could be saved? Some people just were beyond all salvation. You didn't want her to save you, you where your own master and commander, and if that meant being a outlaw you were willing to pay the price. You lean your hot head against his chest staring at your feet, you where still beyond pissed about your chat with Angela, and it was written all over your face. After a few minutes of silent sulking and vexed curses, Jamie placed his hands on your shoulder, making you shoot him a glance with narrow eyes. "What do you want now?!" You snap at him aggressively, the spite in your voice near venomous.
Jamie just smirked down at your exasperated countenance as if you never uttered a single word, his hands wandering to your hips with a sudden strong grip, so firm and direct it almost made you flinch, similar to the one on the street just a while back. You stared at him blankly, you had a good understanding of where this was going to head, the cheeky, smug expression settling on his face was a dead giveaway of his intentions. You knew that face from your customers when they picked you up from the streets, the bar, or whatever place you happened to stroll through; you knew the feeling it stirred in your guts; the anticipation it roused.
"Oh I see how it is. Giving up the stubborn composure?" You decide to whisper with guileful tune, as you place your still quaking fingers at his waist to pull your body closer to his, the warm touch of skin pushed against yours making you shudder comfortably. If he was going to let you have it now, you would have been surprised though, it didn't seem like him. Jamie had been so ceaselessly stubborn, why now would he give up? It made little sense, but you weren't going to complain either.
"No bathtub this time?" You snarl sarcastically. "Did I allow you to speak, Mouse?" He purrs sharply, confusing you significantly, wincing a tad at the sudden direct demand, that was a weird game but you were not unfamiliar to play along. You were no stranger to that commanding voice, but it confused you that Jamie from all people would be able to conjure it up on a whim. "S- sorry master." You sweetly chirp as he switches around your position, now you were the one pinned against the wall, rather roughly at that.
