Robert Pattinson Smut Collection (Robert Pattinson X Reader)

Balcony

When you reach the balcony, you peer over the edge, and what you saw causes your breath to catch.

Robert was sitting on the hood of his Chevy Nova, strumming quietly on his guitar. You calmly attempt to back away to go back inside. He looks up and watches you watching him. You watch each other, not sure what to do. You sent a drunk text to him last night and hadn't replied all day to his questioning responses.

Neither of you talked to the other after ending things last month. Your message had pushed a button of his. You knew what you were doing when you sent the message. At least drunk. You knew what she was doing. Sober, you were pissed, and you had no clue what to say.

Ignoring him didn't work, and being drunk at this moment wasn't helping shit.

The knock on the door has you pacing. It repeats as you make your way to the door.

"What?!" you reply, annoyed.

"you know what, y/n, open the door."

"just go away," you hiccup and try to stay as still as you can.

"Are you fucking drunk?" he was angry.

"Um, I'm a fucking adult, and I can drink whenever I want, Robert, so what about it?" he was not about to get pissed over a bottle or two of wine. "I had a long week and would like to enjoy my weekend peacefully."

"Open the door," his voice getting low and stern, making a part of your stomach flutter.

Rolling your eyes, you hover on the lock. You let out an audibly loud sigh, "on one condition."

In his same unchanged tone, "what's that, y/n."

"You must help me open this bottle, and the cork is stuck."

"you've got to be kidding right now."

"No, I forgot it's a weird top. Do you promise or not?!"

"God, fine! Just let me in."

You unlock the door, opening it slowly to his smoldering blue eyes. He's pissed.

"I open this bottle, you talk," he makes his way past you to your tiny kitchen.

"That was not the deal, Robert!" your temper was flaring up, and your stress level had been high. Your emotions are everywhere.

"then no more loose juice for you,' He sits next to the bottle, eyeing you.

"About what, then?" If your eyes roll back any further into your head, they'll get stuck.

"of all things to say to me, why that?"

"You know why."

"It was a mutual agreement y/n," his eyes soften, and he picks up the bottle.

"Well, I don't agree with it anymore," your eyes begin welling up with tears.

"Okay, now what? Because what you said was rude." the look in his eyes at you shows his hurt and disappointment."

"it was not rude. It was how I felt at the time," you begin drawing circles on the countertop.

His eyes pierce through yours, and you can feel the tension from his building. "so, like I said, now what?"

Shrugging your shoulders, you look at the wine bottle he's holding. He pulls the messed-up cork out quickly and hands it to you.

"Nothing?" he stands up as you pour the wine into the glass you'd just finished before he came in.

Leaving the wine bottle on the counter, you thank him and try to move past him carrying your new full glass. He pushes you against the counter, and you try not to look up at him, just concentrating on not spilling the wine and hoping to make it to your couch.

You feel him breathing angrily down onto your face, and the comforting, familiar smell of him causes you to lose focus.