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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Arms still closely wrapped around Rat you were busy catching your racing breath, now you were awake for sure. They way his snug skin was still sticking to yours so impulsively was a lovely touch, how just couldn't keep your hands to yourself around him, as they peculiarly strive along his body. Everything was so exciting, every crease and scar, all yours and under your fingertips. Drunk on the the way he just existed around you, and the intense scalding pain of the sticky fluid rubbing against laceration covered chest.
"Look at this filthy mess Rat, I am holding you responsible for that." You taunt him whilst your cold, feeble fingertips tracing over the red gashes that now mixed with the cum to form some sort of icky substance, reminded you of a sort of gory glue sticking between your fingers. He chuckles almost pleasantly "In my defense, I warned ya Y/N." You shudder a bit at him actually calling you by your name, it was a rare instance, and one you had to get used to occasionally. It just reminded you of who you really were, of what you life might have been "Crazy boy, if this disarray infects Angela will personally kill you." You snarl as the salty sweat that touched your wounds make them burn even worse, subsequently making your face contour "No worries love, thats whats disinfectant is for. Ya will be alright, im sure a it." He ads, still leaning on top of you, chin rested on your collar "Let's hope so, or I am taking that scalpel away from you, or you learn how to play with it responsibly." You attempt to joke, but the warping in your quaking voice make it sound more sorrowful than intended. Good thing he can't tell the difference all too well, you wouldn't want to alarm his pretty face.
"Alright, im gonna get a shower before training, don't want to stick to everything. Besides, what will the others think if they see any of this?." You announce before trying to push him of you "Aw, leaving me already? Your so comfortable though, just stay a sec will ya." Jamie complains with a husky tone, putting his entire weight on your feeble frame, efficiently pinning you down. "Very funny, since when are bones comfortable?" You murmur jestingly, hands wandering to his scrawny hips with a fleet gesture "They just are, don't question it." He tries to argue clumsily, sending a smirk over your chapped lips.
"Don't sugarcoat it Jamie, I am well aware that the Wasteland has made a mess of my health. If anything, im more edgy to the touch then comfortable." You chirp reassuringly, remembering your previous metaphor of him being your portable version of "home" as you knew it; nothing but pain that you just couldn't be without. "I don't mind that, we can both be freaks then." Jamie smirks with the sweetest expression, kissing along your scratchy, dry skin. "You are a disgusting optimist." You huff while your fingers trace along his chest "Of shut it, it's true, I adore ya for what ya are, broken or not." Jamie complains with a crude tune, seemingly annoyed with your pessimism. "Aw, that's the sweetest thing you have said in...well, ever." You taunt him with a sappy tone before licking along his neck, the taste of salt and sweat were oddly addicting. "And now let me go before I accidently bite you again, or we will never get around to anything today." You buzz down his collar "Fine, it's late anyway." Rat gives in with a reluctant tune in his voice as he lets you slide out of bed gracefully.
