The Bet - Modern Kylo Ren x Reader
Summary: You meet a mysterious man in your local dive bar, and he challenges you to a game of pool. It's such a shame when you lose...
Warnings: fingering, multiple orgasms, size kink, praise kink, degrading, choking, semi-public sex, he's just so mean:(, stranger danger btw, i think thats it lemme know!
also it's my bday tomorrow!!
The lights in the bar were dim and the music loud. You could barely hear what Rose was saying. You swirled the mixed drink in your hand and leaned forward, trying to catch her words, when someone over her shoulder caught your eye.
An insanely tall man who looked out of place in this rundown college dive bar. He was dressed head to toe in black, dark hair brushing his shoulders, and—
“Holy shit.” You cut Rose off, accidentally. Her head whipped around.
“What? What!” you shushed her.
“That might be the most attractive man I’ve ever seen.” As soon as the words left your mouth, his eyes snapped to yours. His lips slid into a cocky smirk, and you yelped. There was no way he could have heard you from across the bar. You downed your drink and ordered another.
The dive bar, aptly named The Resistance, was crowded now. Some sort of pool tournament seemed to be underway, and the guy, who Rose had aptly named “pretty boy”, was winning every single game. You could see him from your perch at the bar; the cue stick, though the biggest they had, was dwarfed in his massive hands. Every time he bent over the table, his black hair fell into his eyes, and he had to run a hand through it to push it back.
You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Rose poked your shoulder.
“Hey, I’m gonna go play darts with Finn. You staying here or coming with?”
Your eyes never left the man in black. “I’ll stay here.” Rose giggled and followed your gaze over to the crowd gathered around him.
Your lips curved into a smirk. “Maybe.” Your eyes slid back to him.
Rose laughed again as she walked away.
“Ma’am,” the bartender said, holding out a drink. “This is from the guy playing pool over there.” He nodded behind you. You took it, thanked him, and glanced over your shoulder.
He was already looking at you, lazily leaning on the pool table. He smirked. You pressed your lips into a line to keep from smiling back, afraid the blush blooming on your cheeks would boost his ego. You lifted your drink to him as a silent thanks as his friend smacked his shoulder.
Mystery man glanced down at the table, looked back at you, grinned, and then got ready to take his shot. It was down to the eight ball, and from your angle, it looked tricky. You held your breath as he lined up the shot… but he didn’t shoot. Instead, his eyes met yours.
He winked. Then the cue ball rolled, hit the side of the table, clipped the eight ball, and sank it into the pocket.
The crowd erupted, but his eyes stayed locked on you.
You weren’t sure if your flirting radar was off or what, but it had been twenty minutes since he bought you that drink, and he still hadn’t come over to introduce himself. Your ego was bruised, and you definitely needed more alcohol to deal with the embarrassment.
Just as you were about to leave, a presence landed behind you. A man’s arm, clad in a black dress shirt with the sleeve rolled to his elbow, hit the bar top in front of you. You sucked in a breath and looked over your shoulder. Up, actually, because he was ridiculously tall.
He wasn’t looking at you.
The bartender nodded, and the drink appeared almost instantly. Then he was gone, back to his friends near the pool table.
“What the hell?” You mutered under your breath.
You were still confused when his voice slid in low behind you. Deep, rough, and utterly panty-melting.
“Don’t tell me you’ve been eye-fucking me all night just to sit there.”
You turned, pulse skittering. He was close. Too close. Towering over you with that infuriating half-smile.
“You looked busy,” you said, forcing nonchalance and desperately trying to calm your skyrocketing heartbeat.
He glanced at the pool tables, then back at you, eyes gleaming, “Busy winning. Tell you what,” he placed his hands on the bar on either side of you, caging you in without touching, “Play me. If you win, I’ll buy you whatever you want the rest of the night.”
You cleared your throat. “And if you win?”
His grin spread, wicked and knowing, eyes sliding down your body. You squeezed your thighs together, aware that your mini skirt left them fully exposed.
“I get fifteen minutes of your time.” He smirked; the implications of his statement not lost on you.
You considered for a moment, remembering Roses’ statement from earlier. How fun would it be to mess with him? Make him think he had a chance with you and then cream him.
And so you said, “I don’t even know how to play.”
“Perfect.” His hand slid to your lower back, sparking heat under your skin. “Then I get to teach you.”
You grabbed your purse and let him guide you to the open table. The crowd thinned slightly, curious to watch, and you fought the urge to smirk. If only they knew.
He racked the balls with practiced ease, rolling the cue ball toward you. “You break.”
You widened your eyes. “Isn’t that the hard part?”
“That’s the point, honey.” He stepped behind you, chest pressing lightly to your back as he lined your hands on the stick. His breath grazed your ear, hair tickling your cheek. He pressed you forward—and oh.
He was so large, the span of his shoulders practically covering you as you bent over the table, hips brushing against him. Every nerve in your body screamed.
“Relax your grip. Aim low. Just trust me.” His voice was gravel in your ear.
You bit your lip and struck. The crack of the break echoed sharply, balls scattering perfectly. One sank.
The game began. You let him coach you through your “shots,” pretending to fumble while sinking a few on purpose. Every correction required him leaning in, hands bracketing your hips, voice a low rumble vibrating down your body. The crowd cheered when you sank two in a row, and you flashed him an innocent smile as you “missed” the next shot.
“Not bad,” he muttered, suspicion narrowing his eyes. He could tell quickly this wasn’t your first time playing pool.
“You’re a good teacher,” you said sweetly.
He laughed under his breath, shaking his head as he lined up his own shot. His forearms flexed under the rolled sleeves. One by one, the table cleared. And then it was down to the 8-ball.
The air grew still; onlookers leaned in. You caught Rose and Finn peeking through the crowd.
You bent low, lining the cue perfectly, feeling his gaze burn into you.
“Better get your credit card out,” you whispered with a wink.
He rolled his eyes. “Which pocket?” You pointed to the far corner.
You struck confidently. The 8-ball sailed into the pocket. Cheers erupted.
But the cue ball rolled too far, teetered, and then slid into the pocket right after it.
A low chuckle slid over your shoulder, followed by the heat of a tall body stepping close behind you.
“Shame,” he murmured, warm at your ear. “That was almost perfect.” You swallowed hard, fingers tightening around the stick. His presence pressed in, smug and deliberate, chest brushing your back. “Guess that makes me the winner.” His breath ghosted over your cheek. “And you owe me.”
You turned your head just enough to catch his smirk. Pulse stuttered. “I had you,” you muttered, heat climbing your neck.
“You almost did.” His grin sharpened. “Almost.”
He took the cue stick from your hand, handing it to a friend. The game was over, and he was finished playing.
You turned around, ass resting on the edge of the table, arms crossed. You were pissed.
His hands rested on the table next to your thighs, thumbs brushing bare skin.
“Should I collect my earnings here? Or…” He trailed off, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
Suddenly, it felt like you were the only people in the bar. Thoughts of this man, whose name you didn’t even know, bending you over the pool table, dancing his hands along your hips, were impossible to ignore. Your gaze dropped briefly to his lips, then back up to his eyes. His pupils were blown, eyes twinkling with desire and mischief.
You sucked in a breath, returning to reality but his fingers were still dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.
“Oh, you’re thinking about that, huh?” His voice teased at your ear. as his fingers deliberately pressed into your skin. “Unless you want a front-row seat for everyone, I suggest you follow me.”
You whined. Actually whined.
He pulled back, grinning wickedly, hand extended for yours. You grabbed it, trembling, unable to stop staring at how massive his hands were. He led you to the back of the bar, then outside, holding the door above you. You ducked under his arm and stepped outside. The chilly air nipped at your exposed skin and suddenly you were annoyed at your attire. Your miniskirt, tank top, and tall boots didn’t do much to keep you warm. But then again, you weren’t planning to spend any time outside of the bar with a complete stranger. The door slammed behind you. You turned abruptly, chest nearly colliding with his. His hands landed on your hips instantly, steadying you.
“So,” you crossed your arms, trying to ignore his hands on you, “Fifteen minutes, huh? You’re either really sure of yourself or you have no idea how to properly please a woman”
He smirked, stepping towards you, “Oh I’m extremely sure of my capabilities to please a woman.”
Instinctively, your eyes rolled. “Oh, give me a break. You have no idea if I’m actually into you or not.”
Suddenly, your back was against the brick building, one of his knees between your legs.
Your pulse spiked, hands flying to his chest. “Hey!”
He chuckled, teeth brushing the hollow beneath your ear. “You wouldn’t have followed me out here if you didn’t want this. Admit it, honey.” It was extremely hard to concentrate when his thumbs were brushing under the fabric of your top.
You stiffened, cheeks warming, trying to glare up at him. “I… I won’t admit anything,” you said, voice clipped, though you secretly hoping he’d move his knee just the slightest bit higher.
He smirked wider, thumbs pressing lightly on your hips, holding you flush against him. “Yet,” he murmured, lips brushing along your jaw. “But the fact that you’re out here tells me plenty.”
You pressed your chin up, trying to stay defiant. “I’m beginning to think you’re all talk. .” You sighed, trying to keep up your confident facade.
His jaw ticked and his hands tightened. “You say that, but you were practically begging for me to bed you over that pool table.” Your eyes widened.
“Well, someone’s cocky.” His eyes narrowed onto yours. And then,
“And someone else is being a brat,” he murmured.
You pressed back slightly, crossing your arms, trying to glare. “I’m not a brat,” you said, voice tight.
He leaned closer, chest brushing yours, lips near your ear. “Oh, you totally are.” His lips brushed your neck again. “And I like it.”
Heat rushed to your cheeks, and for a second, your breathing faltered.
“You’re arguing with me when we both know that I’m correct. Just denying us what we both want.” Your breath hitched as his fingers dipped under the fabric of your skirt, pushed dangerously high on your hips already. “But don’t worry, honey, I’m a patient man.”
“Careful,” you whispered. His eyes met yours. “I bite.”
“No,” he whispered back, “I do.”
His mouth was on your neck in a second, one hand coming up to pull your hair to give him more access. Your hands fisted his shirt as he painted your neck a variety of reds that would turn into an array of purple marks, you’d have to cover up tomorrow. It’s messy, a mixture of teeth and tongue that has you shamelessly grinding onto his thigh. You don’t protest when his hand leaves your hair and wraps itself around your throat, squeezing just a bit.
He pulled away and stared down at you, a devilish smile on his gorgeous face, “Where’d that smart mouth of yours go?” He keeps eye contact, one hand pressing on your throat while the other pushes past your tiny skirt. You suck in a breath when his hand wraps itself around your thigh, hiking it up around his waist, knee finally pressing into your heat.
Despite the large hand on your neck, you throw your head back, the brick behind you not giving you much leeway.
“Fuck.” You manage to whisper out.
His lips ghost over yours as his finger just brushes over your clit and you whine. “Ah. There she is.” You stutter out a breath. “Oh, I know, honey.” His tone is ridiculously condescending, his dark eyes locked on yours. But you can’t look away, gazing up at him through your lashes.
His hand pressed harder onto your throat as his fingers move the wet lace covering your heat to the side. When his fingers brush against your sensitive flesh, you gasp, as much as you can, and wrap a hand into his hair, pulling. He grins, “This what you wanted? Yeah?” Two of his fingers drag up your slit and you whine, watching as his gaze drops to pull his hand out. His massive fingers are coated in your arousal.
“Whadya think, hon?” His hand leaves your throat momentarily, thumb brushing you bottom lip. He doesn’t even have to tell you to open your mouth before he’s pushing his fingers inside. You suck them clean, tongue swirling around his digits, gazing up at him with an entirely too innocent expression. His gaze darkens, “How many can you take?” Your brows furrow.
He takes a deep breath and slides his fingers out of your mouth.
“One…” He pushes his pointer finger back inside and the realization makes your mouth vibrate around him. “Or two?” He pushes his middle finger in alongside it.
You maintain the innocent look as you reach both hands up to his, and push a third finger into your mouth, moaning around them.
He sucks in a breath, “You’re fuckin’ filthy.” You pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a pop, smiling up at him.
“You gonna do something about it, big guy? Or am I gonna have to find some other guy to give me what I want?” His jaw ticked.
Maybe you spoke too soon. Because the next thing you knew, your underwear was torn clean off of you, by one of his hands mind you, while the other found its way back to your throat, squeezing again. His knee rocked itself into your heat and you were sure he could feel the wetness through his pants. He’d shut you right up.
“Brat.” Somehow, you found it in you to throw him a wicked smile, which made his hand tighten around your neck even more. Your vision went dark around the edges, but it sent another flood of arousal to your core, soaking his pants even more. “I was gonna be nice to you, ya’ know?” His free hand, the one still coated in your spit, grasps your thigh again, fingers pressing into your ass, just hard enough to leave a bruise. Your thighs squeeze around him at the thought. “Was gonna let you come as many times as you wanted,” Your knees almost give out, “Maybe even kiss this dirty mouth of yours…” Your eyes drop to his mouth as he leans in slightly. “But I don’t think you deserve it.”
Your lips part in shock and a tiny moan escapes as he pushes all three fingers that were in your mouth into your awaiting pussy. How were his hands so fuckin’ big?
His eyes shut for a moment, “Fuckin’ hell.” He grinds the palm of your hand into your clit roughly. Your body shakes beneath his, knees threatening to buckle beneath you. His eyes open again, blazing with lust. “This what you want, huh? To be stuffed full by the fingers of some random guy you don’t know the name of?”
That was it. Your knees gave out. Your cheeks bloomed with embarrassment. But somehow, you were still upright.
His goddamned hand was keeping you pressed to the wall by your neck. “So fuckin’ desperate, aren’t ya?” His thumb replaced his palm, rolling your clit between his fingers. The pleasure was coming too fast, your body shaking, trying to get away from his expert fingers. “Awe, where you goin’? Is it too much for you?” Tears sprang in your eyes, but it only spurred him on.
Finally, his hand left your throat and you moaned louder than you ever had before. His hand tangled in your hair once again, forcing your head back to give him access to your neck. His fingers began thrusting into you at a brutal pace, thumb flicking your clit over and over and over.
You were babbling incoherently until…
“Close…” Your hands twisted into his shirt again. “Gonna come- fuck.” His fingers were gone instantly, the feeling of emptiness making you whine once again. You stumbled for his hand, trying to guide it back between your shaking thighs but he had your arms pinned above your head before you could blink. In one hand. The other was wrapped around your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.
“Beg.” You shook your head, defiant and bratty once again. His hand squeezed your cheeks, pushing your lips into a pout, “I’m not gonna ask again.”
“Well,” His grip loosened to allow you to speak, “I can’t do that properly if you don’t tell me your name…” His eyes rolled but then his head dipped down to match your height.
“Kylo.” You raked your gaze down his body. It seemed to fit him. And it was hot as fuck. Then, you wet his eyes again.
“Well then,” You paused, for dramatics, and pushed your head up, brushing your lips against his. “Nice to meet you, Kylo.” You bit your lip and told him your name.
He tested your name out on his lips and the sound of it made you clench around nothing. “I’d say the same, but I’ve already had my fingers inside of you, so I don’t really think that introduction is necessary.” His hand tightened on your wrists, the brick biting into your skin.
You blinked up at him, all doe eyed and said with a voice like candy, “Please Kylo,” You whispered. “Please use your big fingers to make me come.” You let your gaze drop to his mouth and then back up to his narrowed eyes. “I can take it.”
The final blow sent Kylo reeling. His palm was back on your throat, making you moan in satisfaction.
“Such.” His other palm came down on your ass. “A.” On your inner thigh. “Fuckin’.” The other side. “Brat.” As he spit the last word out, his hand lands flat on your pussy.
His mouth covered yours then, swallowing your wanton moan.
The kiss was desperate and needy, and you only pulled away when he pushed his fingers back into you. “Kylo, fuck.” His thumb danced dangerous circles around your clit. You reached back up to kiss him again, but he kept his lips out of reach. His thumb pressed down hard onto your clit, and you whimpered. “Kylo…” His fingers were moving at the pace of a snail. You needed more.
“What, honey?” The mocking tone was back. “Three of my fingers aren’t enough? Jesus, you’re so goddamned greedy.” His pace sped up just a bit. “I bet you lay in bed at night, trying to stuff your tiny fingers into your little cunt, right?” One of your hands pries his hand off of your neck, you need his fingers back in your mouth. You look up at him expectantly, holding his massive hand up to your lips. His mouth twitches into a smirk before he indulges you, pushing two fingers back into your mouth. “Good girl.” Your eyes squeeze shut and your pussy clenches around his fingers. “Oh, I bet you look so fuckin’ pretty.” He picks up the pace. “Spread out on your bed, thighs shaking…” He trails off, swirling his thumb around your clit once again. “But it’s never enough, is it?” You shake your head. “It will never compare to this. To me.”
You moan around his fingers and open your eyes. His gaze his locked onto where his fingers are disappearing inside of you. In and out. Over and over.
“Hottest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” You clench around him again and he looks back up, meeting your eyes. “Can’t figure out which one you like better, hm?” Your brows furrow and you suck in a breath through your nose. His fingers press down on your tongue, making you gag around them. “Being told how pretty you look or how much of a slut you’re being.” You moan again and nod.
“Kylo…” You try to say around his fingers. You can hardly focus with the movements his other hand is making.
“Sorry,” The pads of his fingers brush against your g-spot and your brain goes blank. “What was that? Can’t understand a word you’re saying baby.” You start to grind your hips onto his hand, hands tangling in his hair. “Slut.” But he indulges you. His fingers start thrusting at their brutal pace once again, thumb applying the most delicious amount of pressure to your clit.
You feel your climax coming. Kylo knows it to. He can tell in the way you start whining around his fingers, your hands clawing at his back and shoulders through his shirt, your pussy clenching around his fingers. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, you can see it on his pants when you look down. He catches onto what you’re looking at and, “Fuckin’ messy, aren’t ya’?” You look back up at him and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you to his mouth. “You gonna come, honey? All over my fingers?” You nod, eyes half closed, unable to even form words. His fingers press against your g-spot again, harder this time, and you come.
Kylo kisses you again, his lips undoubtably bruising yours as you practically gush around his hand. He continues his attack on your body through your orgasm and doesn’t stop when you come down from your high. You push against him with the little strength you have.
“Ky-“ He kisses you again. “Kylo… Can’t- I can’t.” He shushes you.
“You will.” His mouth presses to yours again and his thumb works your clit even faster. You come fast and hard, drenching his hand.
Kylo pulls away from your mouth, sliding his fingers out of you and smirking when you whine at the loss of contact. He brings his fingers up and you can see your wetness covering them in the dim lighting of the moon.
You instinctively open your mouth, prepared to clean them but he surprises you by cocking his head.
All you can do is watch him suck his three fingers clean. His eyes watch you the whole time, but yours are locked on his mouth. He pulls them out with a pop and your gaze rises to meet him. Your cheeks flush again. Could he get hotter?
Fuck. Did you say that out loud?
He pushes your skirt down, covering your core once again. He does a once over of you, pausing on your neck, a sly smirk on his mouth when he sees the handywork he left there.
You’re still panting when he nods his head at the door. “You comin’?”
Your brows furrow. “Inside?”
He bites his cheek at the innuendo and then, because he can’t help himself, “Hopefully.” Your lips part in shock when it hits you. He chuckles and then days, “If you want this to end here,” He waves his hand back and forth between your bodies, “Then yeah, we will go inside, and I won’t get your number or take you back to my apartment.” You’re silent. “However,” He steps forward, closer to you, making you strain your neck to keep eye contact. “If you do want this to continue, you’re gonna go inside, tell your friends you have a ride,” He winks, “and then you’re gonna come to my apartment. I’m sure you’re smart enough to figure out what comes next, honey.” You cock your head to the side, playing along.
“I think you’re gonna have to spell it out for me, big guy.” His jaw tightens, and he bends down, a hand landing next to your head on the brick.
“My fingers make your brain numb or something?”
You nod, “Guess so…” You slide your lips into a line to keep from smiling.
Kylo is unfazed. “Well, first, I’m gonna make you come again on my tongue,” Your breath catches as his hand slides around your waist.
“And then,” He presses his hips into yours, his hard erection apparent through the fabric of his pants. “You’re going to deal with this.” He smiles. “And then, I’m going to fuck this little pussy of yours.”
As your last act of defiance, you lifted your chin. “Wanna bet?”
He laughed low, dangerous, the sound curling heat down your spine. “You really want to lose twice in one night?” His hand slid to your jaw, tilting your face up to his. “Answer me.”
Your breath hitched. “N-no…”
His smirk sharpened, wolfish. “That’s what I thought.” He leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, “Good girl. Now get inside before I show everyone in there what a brat you’ve been tonight.”
A shiver tore through you, your bravado splintering, but you still forced yourself to meet his gaze as you slipped past him. His hand slapped your ass as you went past, which only turned you on more. You couldn’t wait to get to his apartment.
