Simpatico Outcasts

❝Everyone thinks that the outcasts are the rejects, don't fit into groups or societies; they're the ones people don't want. But they're wrong, because outcasts do belong somewhere. Together.❞


For 17-year-old, Cecil Jones, the Simpatico Outcast group had become her world. A world in which she could avoid her home, her family and anything else she didn't want to think about. She'd found comfort in having a group, and even a boyfriend, despite never knowing where she was going to sleep at night.

But after one weekend, everything changes again and she's forced into the realisation that you can't just ignore the wounds before they've healed. And no matter how hard you try to bury the mistakes you make, sometimes you just can't stop making them over and over again.


Author's note

A/N: Please be aware that some chapters contain adult/sexual content (why I have rated it R) so please don't read it you feel uncomfortable with that.

16. Sixteen ⦁ Ruin is inevitable

⦁ Reggie ⦁

It was faster this time. I was less nervous, hesitated only a few seconds. First, we just kissed, tongues fighting in each other's mouths and then the clothes were coming off, chucked aside, so there was just a heap of black fabric on the floor.  

I couldn’t keep my hands still. I wanted to touch her everywhere, her skin so smooth, so enticing. I ran them down her body, across her chest making her react when I gently squeezed her boobs. Then down and up her legs, across her thighs, closer and closer to the part of her which I knew would make her writhe in pleasure if I touched it. She moaned and moaned and moaned and it sounded like music I had never heard before, but the most amazing sounds, sending goose bumps across my body. 

I kissed up her stomach, across the scars, taking in everything as she wrapped her fingers through my hair. Her chest was heaving up and down, and her boobs moved with each rise and fall, looking heavy but not in a way that wasn’t attractive. I never realised how big they were until I unfurled them from her bra that first time, but they fit easily in my hands, just sorted of moulded against my skin. And in my mouth as I sucked on her nipples. They looked so bouncy at any other time but as she relaxed back and let me explore her body, they seemed softer than I expected.  

For a moment I thought I was being too much of a typical boy, but it just fascinated me. Boobs were not something I had myself, so seeing them, touching them on her body was a weird but pleasurable experience.  

I kissed up her neck, trying to be gentle as I knew she had warned me not to give her another hickie but it was just tempting. She let out soft moans as I did it, held on to her wrists, pinning them back against the bed.  

“You’re amazing,” I whispered, my voice gravely sounding as I got close to her ear and kissed down her jaw. Her lips fought to find mine but I teased her, pulling back slightly.  

The expression on her face was so longing and, in her eyes, I saw it again. The wild fire that I wanted to be consumed by.  

“Reggie,” she said breathlessly and she almost sounded pleading.  

I pressed myself against her and kissed her deeply again. Her hands wriggled out from my grip and trailed up my bare back, almost tickling me but feeling nice at the same time.  

She bit at my lip and I felt like something in my stomach did a somersault. I let out a heavy breath as our lips fumbled more erratically, more desperately, as she wrapped her legs around me and pushed herself up against me. My dick was so close to her entrance that I could just feel the desire in my body. It’s like I couldn’t think straight anymore.  

Suddenly, she flipped me over so I thumped down on to my back with her hair whipping into my face, like sudden black clouds in my vision. Then she sat up more, threw her head backwards and I watched the black waves dance around her radiant face. Her cheeks were flushed pink and her eyes, her eyes were so dark and passionate as she looked down at me. She wet her lips with her tongue, making it look seductive in a way I didn’t even understand. Then she moved backwards slightly, lowering her head slightly towards my dick as I felt more and more tingles of anticipation build up. When she was close, she tilted her head so she could peer up my chest at me with a conflicted look on her face.  

“Do you want me to?” she asked and I quickly nodded. Fucking hell, I wanted her too. Every particle in my body was calling out for her.  

“Okay,” she whispered and then before I could even brace myself her tongue flicked across the tip, and I had to grip the bed sheets beside me.  

“Oh fuck,” I breathed out in a voice which was a mixture of pleasure and nerves.  

She did it again, moving her tongue in a circle this time, causing some kind of convulsion in my legs as they tensed up, but in a good way. My eyes were rammed shut, and I felt like I couldn’t tell where I was anymore. I could just feel; feel her mouth on me as she moved in a rhythm that sent ripples through my body like waves. But not cold waves, warm, pleasure waves which made me feel like I was soaring through the sky. Up and up and up, until there was a point where everything just released.  

I let out such a loud moan, that I was sure it was going to shatter a window. Or that’s what I thought as I suddenly came back to the room, fistfuls of bedsheets in my hands like I needed something to hold on to, to steady myself. Loud breaths expelled from my mouth and it took me a while to even open my eyes, but when I did Cecil had a satisfied grin on her face. She climbed off me and slumped down next to me, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.  

“That w-was...,” I tried to explain how good it was but I couldn’t. I was breathing so heavy, that my words wouldn’t come out properly and I didn’t have a good enough adjective for it anyway.  

Cecil laid on her side, her head propped up, so she could look at me. “I think you liked that.”  

Liked was an understatement. I was so glad I wasn’t feeling sick right now so I could just lay there and savour it for a moment longer. I then turned my body so I could face her, a hand scooping back the messy hair from her face. She looked so beautiful but there was something sad in her eyes. The mischievous smile had vanished from her face. 

“What’s wrong?” I whispered and I caressed her cheek with my thumb. It just felt like the right thing to do, something comforting.  

“What if I never stop doing this?” she said slowly, and then she turned away from me. She fumbled for her underwear and I caught a glimpse of tears in her eyes. She sniffed and tried to stop it. 

“Cecil,” I said gently and sat up too, gripped her shoulder, tried to turn her back towards me. When she didn’t turn around, I put my boxers and jeans back on, and shuffled closer to her. She did her shorts up and sat back down on the edge of the bed, her knees pulled in towards her chest. I put a hand on her back, carefully ran it up and down, over the back of her bra. “What is it?”  

She didn’t say anything for a while, just stared down at the floor, then finally she turned a little more towards me. Her eyelashes had droplets of tears caught in them and her eyes were huge, and glassy. It was a complete contrast to the furious, passion she had been displaying earlier, only moments ago. I wondered if she was feeling guilty again, because I knew far back in my brain my guilt was trying to claw its way out, from where I had pushed it back. 

“I’m self-destructive,” she finally replied. When she looked at me, I saw everything in her eyes. Pain and destruction and mystery. “I do... I do things like this because I know it’s wrong, but I still want to do it. Sometimes I don’t care, and sometimes I do.” She sucked in a shuddery breath. “When I do care I start to think there’s something wrong with me.”  

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I quickly told her but she didn’t let me console her anymore.  

“I make bad choices all the time,” she continued. “Over and over, the same mistakes.” For a moment, the sadness almost took over her whole face but then she shifted closer to me. She put her hands on my shoulders as she looked in my eyes deeply. “I get scared I can never stop being reckless, and I'm just going to be this way forever.”  

Her lips were inches from mine and I could feel her breath on my face. Her eyes were drawing me in again and I had lost my voice.  

“I’ll ruin you,” she whispered and then I brushed my lips against hers. It was gentle but certain. “Why would you still want me when you know that?”  

I pulled back. “I want you to ruin me,” I told her quietly. I saw all the destruction in her, but I still wanted her. I wanted the beautiful, hot, mess I saw in front of me. She had frustrated me, made me feel good, and bad and guilty and just everything. I was pulled into her trap and I wanted to be in it. I didn’t care if it fucked me up, because the moments I shared with her were things I couldn’t forget. Of course, I was still guilty, but I just... I couldn't help it. She was so captivating. It hadn’t even taken her very long to get to me, and I was possibly too quickly infatuated with her.   

It was dangerous. And just like with the cigarettes, the reckless driving, there was a fear of danger. I wanted to feel like that because then I felt something deep in me. I felt like she could so easily hurt me, mess things up but I liked that. It was like everything else in my life, the inevitable feeling that I was probably fucked and things were bound to go wrong soon. Yet, when I was with her, the seconds felt endless and I almost didn't care if I was doing something bad. I wanted her to stay with me, in my presence so I knew I wasn’t alone. We were both broken, fucked up outcasts, that had pain underneath we tried to hide. It felt better to do bad reckless things together, to try to feel something more in life than fed up with the rest of the world and everyone in it.  

“Maybe we’re supposed to fuck each other up,” I whispered. “After all, the world is a shit place. People do bad things to each other all the time; argue, fight, cheat. Ruin is inevitable. That’s all part of being human, but it doesn’t mean, you can’t enjoy things whilst they last.” I knew I sounded so cynical, but that was just me. I had always felt that way about life; it was always going to be unfair and there was always going to be shit that happens. 

She didn’t say anything more, just sadly smiled at me and then kissed me on the lips again. I looked her in the eyes, and they seemed to soften; it was less like she was trying desperately to keep up the tough, no nonsense walls she had built around her to keep everyone else away. She looked vulnerable and hurt, but crazy too. The crazy type of reckless, where she would do anything just to feel alive and excited. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I told her again and cupped her face with my hands. “You, Cecil, are yourself. You can decide who you want to be and what you want to do. The world can’t make you any fucking different no matter how hard it tries. No matter how many people think you should be someone else, well... Fuck them. Be a self-destructive, impulsive mess. That’s you, and I still fucking want you no matter how many bad things you do.”  

I saw her eyes fill with tears again but she had a smile on her face, so bright. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and pulled me closer without another word.  

She rested her head into the crook of my neck gently. "Thank you," she whispered. I didn’t need her to tell me though, I just knew she appreciated every single one of my words by the way she held on to me like she didn't want to let go. She didn't want anyone to tell her she couldn't do it, and I didn't want her to let go either.

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