Robert Pattinson Smut Collection (Robert Pattinson X Reader)

University

You'd been unpacking your room and organizing all weekend. It's Sunday afternoon, and you're tired of staring at these four walls and the other side of the tiny room no one has moved into.

The pub three blocks away from your dorm is mostly empty. A couple of people are playing darts or pool. You take a seat at the bar and order food and a glass of wine. Taking the first sip was amazing. The bitter yet sweet taste was refreshing.

The soccer highlights of the last gameplay show on the tv overhead at a soft volume. The bartender sets tour food down.

"The bar will be packed in the next hour for the game, in case you want to make it out of here beforehand." the bartender cleaning glasses and moving around bottles.

"she looks happy watching soccer to me," a matter-of-fact voice replies over your shoulder.

Turning around, you see a tall, dark-haired man sitting next to you. he takes off his sunglasses and smiles at the bartender. 

"you're not wrong about that," you take another sip of your wine.

The bartender serves him a drink and for as you begin talking about soccer with the stranger.

"you have to root for Arsenal, they're the best team, and you probably will die trying to root for anyone else in this bar.' you follow his finger pointing around to the flags and memorabilia lining the wall and the ceiling.

"Got it," you nod, laughing,

Talking for another 15 or so minutes, you look around, realizing how packed the bar was getting. You were on probably your 5th glass, and the stranger was keeping up. He offers to buy you shots as you agree and take one with him.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you get off your stool and make your way through the packed bar. The bathroom was empty, and you were glad. You use the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror, realizing how drunk you're getting as you are washing your hands. your first weekend in London was going well. 

You were delighted you decided to wear actual cute clothes today: ripped jeans and a tank top with a light cardigan and heels. Your makeup was still amazing. You touch up your lipgloss and head back out to the bar.

 Walking up, half the bar was listening to the bartender, and the hot stranger tells a story. Everyone was laughing and cheering. You slowly sit on your stool and order a fresh glass of wine. The bartender laughs, handing it to you.

You realize that British English and American English are two different languages, but everyone here enjoyed it. The crowd eventually dies down as the half-time of the game ends.

"I now realize that British English is so different," you have to lean over close to him for him to hear you. He scoots his stool over and keeps that same distance. His scent was musky but warm, and his breath smells like mint.

"Yeah, it is. I spent some time in America, and there's a bunch of different languages within that country itself, ya know?"

you laugh, nodding, "exactly."

"What did you say your name was again?" 

"I didn't. It's (YFN)," you bring your hand to him in a solid handshake.

"Robert," his accent seems to get stronger with every drink.

----

You sit next to Robert as the crowd goes crazy as the game is tied, and the time was only 5 minutes left. Even Robert begins shouting with the group and making another joke with the bartender and the guys around him.

The game has your heart racing as Arsenal gets closer to the goal and misses. It sounded like everyone in the bar was pissed. You look over at Robert, and his head is in his hands. he orders another shot, "do you need one too? this is stressful." he winks at you. you nod at him, making a grimacing face. "two please?"

You two take the shot as the team is setting the ball back up to try to score. Only 2 minutes left, and they were so close. There wouldn't be overtime added in this game unless the game tied it, but that means they have to run the clock out to end the game.

Finally, Arsenal makes the shot, and the clock has 30 seconds left as the team begins celebrating. They place the ball on the field and run out the clock. You can feel the floor of the bar shaking your stool as you clap and cheer.

An hour later, a lot of the bar clears out, leaving most of the bar full, and Robert has his arm around the back of your chair. You're drunk and decide to start drinking water. You lean into him as he talks. His accent is intoxicating, and the liquid courage rushing through your veins makes you want to risk it all.

His fingers begin to play with your hair as you talk about your scholarship to the University and the awful plane ride here.

He's laughing, and his eyes are low and red but lighting up at your storytelling. You yawn midsentence and look at your phone, it's half past 12, and you have orientation at noon tomorrow.

"I need to go. I have to get up for orientation," you roll your eyes and lay your head on his shoulder.

"cant miss that," he waves to the bartender. He pays for everything.

"you don't have to do that," you sit up and turn to look at his face to face putting space between you.

"I wanted to," he signs the tab you struggle not to look at.

"thank you, really," you hug him, and he holds you for a few minutes. You take in his scent. Finally, you both let go and stand up, putting on your sweater.

"ill take you back," he stood up, putting his stuff in his pockets.

"Um, it's the dorms right there," you didn't know why that was embarrassing, but you felt so lame.

"you're not going alone," his voice was stern as he puts his jacket on and wraps his arm around you.

You were exhausted, and these heels were starting to dig in. you walk with him out of the bar, the late fall air getting chilly.