IMAGINES ▹ ROSS BUTLER

↳ anchorless

( ANCHORLESS ) 
by gutterdreams

He thought he wouldn't care. Reggie figured it would feel too amazing to be affected by any residual guilt or shame. Following the tall curly haired girl into her bedroom, he was convinced that he would hit peak joy and ectasy. Licking his lips as he watched her undress, tasting her sweat from shoulder to stomach, and feeling her rock against his groin with his bulge aching between her. It wasn't until right before he came that his conscience kicked in and he thought of you, your name silent stamped on his tongue's tip. It was a built up orgasm, but it felt like utter shit.

The girl panted beside him with a proud grin. She reached over with her nails grating against his collapsing chest, but he swatted it away. He had made a terrible choice that he was calling a mistake. He felt rotten. A ten pound shit in a two pound bag. Reggie rolled away from her and sat up off the bed quickly, picking up his clothes from the ground and jostling into them without a word. He headed straight for the keg once he was done, rejoining the noise and chaos that was the foundation of the house party. He stayed quieter and grumpier than usual, leaving once his buzz had returned. Reggie drove, despite the fact that he knew better, and wound up at your place, loudly banging on your window and waking you up right away.

"Reg?" Forehead wrinkled, you squinted at him through the glass while trying to manuever the window up without waking your parents. "What are you doing here?" He had been pissed earlier when you ditched the party since you had to be up early for a family breakfast at your aunt's house.

He didn't answer you. He hoisted up his body weight with one hand and used the other to pull you into a hungry and needy kiss with his grip behind your neck. The liquor was evident in his taste, but it was nice to feel how much he cared about you after how annoyed he seemed when you said you weren't going to the college party with him and his friends.

Reggie helped himself in through the window, falling to your floor without any Grace, and then leading you to your bed that was still warm. He kicked off his shoes once sitting on the edge and pulled you between his knees, hands on your hips and head resting on your exposed stomach since you had been sleeping in a tank top and black underwear.

"You're drunk..." Through a whisper you laughed and combed your fingers through his dark hair with both hands.

"You're too good for me." He groaned against your body, shaking his head from side to side against your cozy warm flesh.

"What are you talking about?" Somewhat amused, but mostly unsure of what was going on, you asked. "That doesn't sound like the Reggie Mantle I know." You teased back, fingers still in his hair. You sat down on his lap and wrapped tour legs around him, kissing his sad face on each cheek and then bringing it up for a proper peck.

"I'm an asshole." He repeated what everyone said about him, itching at his hair that you had just been massaging.

"No." Innocently, you refuted. "You're nice to me." Any time anyone said something unkind to you about your boyfriend of almost a year that was your response. He treated you well and that was all that mattered to you.

"You're perfect." Instead of referring to himself as an asshole again, Reggie took you in, just studying the quiet kindness you offered him easily with just a faint smile. He leaned back and pulled you down with him, wiggling into a big spoon behind you and tying you up between his arms. "I'll get out of here when you need to go." He half promised with a low groan in your ear, eyes heavy as he started to feel asleep against you. The guilt from earlier still hadn't subsided like he hoped it would, but for now he was distracted by the feeling of your skin and the way your heart was beating under his open palms.