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brianaobviously · 6 days ago

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Odds Are (Ryan Magee X Reader)

| Minors DNI | 18+ only | 5.4k words Summary: What starts as a typical day filming with your boyfriend Ryan and his best friend Matt takes a sharp turn when an innocent game of “Odds Are” pushes boundaries neither of you expected. With pride on the line and a dare that blurs the rules, you find yourself caught between competition and desire. Warnings: smut, nsfw, cursing, oral (afab receiving), penetration, teasing, praise, rough sex, degradation, light choking, voyeurism (implied), exhibitionism (audio recording), possessiveness, mention of blackmail (non-graphic), mild jealousy, alcohol consumption, consensual power dynamics

a/n: It's been a while but do not fear, I'm here now :)). You can also find my stuff on a03 at lavender_creame

Matt and Ryan tended to be quite competitive with one another. Whether it was who could drink the most before puking, or who could beat the other in Super Monkey Ball, they always found a way to one-up each other. Early into their friendship, as a result of that competition, they started playing a game Ryan—your boyfriend—titled Odds Are.

It was simple enough, but it kept them entertained. Ryan once described it to you as nothing more than a game of chance: one person says, “Odds are you ___”, proposing some stupid or daring task, and the other responds with a number that reflects how willing they are to do it. The higher the number, the less they want to go through with it—the higher the odds. Simple. Dangerous. And, apparently, endlessly entertaining.

This day, recording a video for SuperMega, was just like any other. Matt and Ryan lounged on the couch making casual conversation with Tucker, who was setting up the camera and tweaking the lighting one last time.

“I think these are the last ones! ” Justin shouted from the hallway right outside the recording room. By the time he strolled in—packages stacked in his arms, leaning precariously against his shoulder—Matt was already complaining.

“Shit! More? Really? Look at how fucking many we already have, ” Matt groaned dramatically as Justin placed the boxes carefully atop the pile already set before them.

“Whoever edits this is going to have to do a lot of condensing, ” Matt muttered, scratching the back of his neck.

Justin knew he’d be stuck with the editing. There was no way Matt was dealing with that—obvious enough. He opened his mouth to call Matt out, maybe give him shit for complaining, but before he could, Luke strolled in with a six-pack in hand.

As the rest of the boys cheered in delight, Ryan stayed seated, absorbed in his phone as he texted you. You and Ryan had been dating for two, maybe three years now—long enough that he wasn’t exactly sure. While the honeymoon phase had come and gone, Ryan still texted you daily, sent photos, checked in.

He aimed the camera and snapped a shaky panorama of the mailroom, showing the extent of boxes laid out across the floor and table.

You were always thankful for Ryan’s thoughtfulness, even a couple of years in, and were always just as quick to reply:

“That’s a lot of packages. When can you deliver me yours? ”

Ryan smiled at your flirty message, then smirked to himself as he fired back:

“ If you’re good, then maybe tonight. But I don’t know if packages this large have same-day shipping. ”

He was still grinning when Matt stood up to grab a beer from Luke, deliberately leaning over Ryan’s shoulder and sneaking a glance at his screen.

“Damn, Ryan! Texting Y/N during recording time? You must be down bad, ” Matt teased, nudging him with an unopened beer.

Ryan furrowed his brow slightly, but his smirk didn’t fade as he cracked open the can. “You wanna play this game, Matthew? ”

Matt was already grinning wider. “You’d think after this long, you would have gotten out of the puppy love phase. But even now, your tail’s wagging. Keep sexting Y/N during recording and the audience is gonna see your big red rocket poking through your shorts. ”

Ryan barked out a laugh. “You wanna talk about sexting? You were texting that chick from Tinder for weeks at the Plex, until she turned out to be a catfish and tried to blackmail you. Didn’t she leak your dick pics? ”

The room erupted. Luke snorted his beer through his nose. Justin nearly dropped a box.

“Low blow, man, ” Matt pouted, but he couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

Tucker, already moving toward the camera, took the opportunity to corral them. “Alright, alright, ladies. We’re all pretty here, ” he rolled his eyes. “Let’s get going. I think we all have shit to do after this. ”

The boys settled into the couch, ready to record yet another video.

As they sliced open boxes, Matt and Ryan cracked jokes, roasting the stuff viewers had sent in for their latest fan mail episode. A few drinks in, Matt made a joke controversial enough to warrant censoring—and their laughter stuttered to a halt.

“Justin! Censor that with a funny sound effect, ” Matt called out. “Like a sexy moan or something. ”

Ryan turned to Matt, his voice suddenly low and serious, but with a glint of mischief in his eye. “Matt, shut up. Remember? Justin’s a virgin. He has no clue what you mean by that. ”

Matt snickered, his classic lopsided grin on full display. “Shit. You’re right. That’s my bad. It’s best if we don’t remind him. ” He paused, then smirked again. “I suppose you’ll just have to handle it instead. ” He winked.

All five of them cracked up, but something about Matt’s tone made Ryan pause. His smile faltered for a second.

“What’s that supposed to mean, bro? ” Ryan said, trying for playful but feeling a flicker of something more serious.

Matt leaned in, placing his hand on Ryan’s cheek in a mockingly gentle gesture, stroking once. “Whatever you want it to mean, big boy. ”

Ryan chuckled and swatted him away, but the weird vibe lingered. He shoved it out of his head and unfolded an ironic t-shirt a viewer had sent in, showing it off to the camera as Luke giggled next to him.

Not long after, they finished recording. Tucker turned off the camera with an apologetic smile, already packing up his gear.

“Sorry to be rushing out, guys. Got another shoot soon. ”

“No worries, man. We’ll clean up, ” Matt replied casually, waving him off without looking up from a fan letter.

Tucker left, shutting the door behind him. Justin and Luke had already vanished halfway through the video, holed up in the editing room.

Ryan realized they were alone. And Matt’s earlier comment—it was still nagging him.

“Hey, Matt, ” Ryan said, trying to keep his tone light, “what did you mean when you said I could handle the sound effect? ”

Matt smiled, smug as hell, still reading the letter in his hands. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. ”

Ryan sighed. That look told him everything. Matt was being an asshole on purpose, which meant he did mean something by it.

“Come on, man. Don’t play dumb, ” Ryan nudged him lightly. “You’re gonna tell me anyway, so just do it now. ”

Matt chuckled, folding the letter carefully before finally meeting Ryan’s gaze. “Okay, okay. Hear me out. ”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening. ”

Matt grinned. “Odds are you record yourself fucking Y/N to get the soundbite for the video. ”

Ryan snorted so hard he almost choked. He couldn’t believe how casually Matt said it. “You cannot be serious. ”

“Dead serious, ” Matt smirked.

Ryan laughed again but didn’t skip a beat. “Hundred. ”

“Come on, man. Hundred? ” Matt whined.

“Bro, ” Ryan said flatly, but he was still smiling.

Matt gave him a look—the look—the one Ryan knew meant he wasn’t going to drop it. Ryan sighed.

“Fine. Fifty. Take it or leave it. ”

Matt’s grin widened. “Deal. ”

Ryan shook his head, wondering for the millionth time why he always let Matt drag him into this shit.

Matt started the count. “One… two… three—”

“Thirty-seven! ” they both said in unison.

Matt screamed. Ryan froze.

Matt collapsed backwards onto the couch, howling with laughter. Ryan just sat there, mouth open, processing the fact that they had both picked thirty-seven.

“There’s no way, ” Ryan mumbled. “No fucking way. ”

“There is a way, ” Matt grinned, sitting back up and slapping Ryan on the back. “You better start thinking about what mic you’re gonna use, bro. ”

“There’s no way Y/N is going to believe this, ” Ryan muttered, stunned. “She’s gonna think I’m insane. ”

Matt’s grin didn’t fade. “No, she’ll believe you. You’d never make up something this absurd. ” He stood and stretched. “She gets back from work soon, doesn’t she? You better not be late delivering your package. ”

Ryan groaned as Matt laughed even harder at his own innuendo.

Ryan knew Matt had a crush on you. It wasn’t a secret—not to Ryan, anyway. Matt’s dry spell had dragged on long enough that Ryan figured his friend was living vicariously through him more than anything.

But there was something sharper behind Matt’s grin now. Ryan couldn’t shake the feeling that Matt was testing him.

On the drive home, Ryan kept replaying the number in his head. Thirty-seven. Both of them. Out of fifty.

He glanced at his phone at a red light. Your contact was pinned at the top.

“She’s gonna think I’m an idiot, ” Ryan muttered.

And maybe she would.

But deep down, under the disbelief and annoyance, Ryan couldn’t deny the part of him that was curious.

Maybe even a little excited.

Ryan sat in his car, parked in front of your apartment, engine idling. The sun had dipped low enough that everything outside was tinted in that orange-gold glow that made L. A. almost look romantic. Almost. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, staring at the message he'd typed out and deleted three separate times already.

“Hey babe? Can we talk about something weird lol, like odds are weird? ”

He sighed and deleted it again.

This was so stupid.

But a bet was a bet. And Ryan wasn’t about to take an L from Matt without at least trying to cash it in. Even if this was probably going to end with you roasting him until the day he died.

Finally, he pocketed his phone and climbed out of the car.

Inside, you were already home—flopped sideways across the couch in one of Ryan’s old hoodies, scrolling on your phone. You glanced up as the door clicked open.

“Hey, you, ” you greeted, smiling lazily. “You’re late. ”

Ryan kicked his shoes off with a grunt and crossed the room to press a quick kiss to your temple. “Yeah. Mailroom hell. Plus Matt’s a dumbass. ”

You snorted. “So… Tuesday? ”

“Exactly. ”

He sat down beside you, leaning back, arms crossed over his chest. You studied him for a moment before setting your phone aside. “Alright. What is it? ”

“What do you mean? ” Ryan asked, all fake innocence.

You gave him the look. “Ryan. You’re making the face. ”

“What face? ”

“The face where you did something dumb but you’re hoping you can charm your way out of it. ” You arched a brow. “It’s adorable. And very transparent. ”

Ryan sighed. “Okay, yeah, maybe I did something dumb. ”

“Okay, ” you said, drawing out the syllables. “Let’s hear it. ”

Ryan rubbed the back of his neck. “So… you know how Matt and I play Odds Are, right? ”

“Yeah, ” you said, already grinning. “It’s the reason I have a video of you puking while doing the worm in a Waffle House parking lot. ”

He chuckled. “Good times. ”

“Great times. I almost left you that night, honestly. ”

“Fair, ” he said, smiling despite himself.

There was a beat of silence. Ryan’s foot tapped restlessly on the carpet.

“So, ” he started again, “we were playing earlier. And, uh, Matt dared me to do something. ”

You tilted your head. “How bad? ”

Ryan groaned. “Pretty bad. ”

You, once again, unfazed and unworried by whatever Matt’s dare was, spoke again, “Like, eat-a-dead-bug bad, or get-another-tattoo-you-regret bad? ”

He winced. “Neither. ”

You waited.

“He… told me to record us. Y'know. ” He stood up, pacing a few steps away from you and waved a hand vaguely. “During. ”

You blinked at him.

“For a sound effect, ” he added quickly. “For the video. ”

There was a beat of silence. Then you laughed. A bright, sharp bark of disbelief.

“He dared you to record us fucking so he could use it as…? ” you waited

“A censor beep for a slur he said on camera... ”

“A censor beep for a slur he said on camera. ” you repeated, grinning so wide it almost hurt. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. ”

Part of your laughing was because you found the situation undeniably funny, but the other part of you was starting to warm. Heat was festuring in your cheeks and between your legs at the thought. You knew Matt had a crush on you, so did Ryan and everyone else, but this? And Ryan was going along with it? Sure Ryan had issues backing down from a challenge, but you could sense something else- a deeper excitement.

Ryan groaned, burying his face in his hands, a slight blush reaching his face as well. “I know! But I said fifty! And we both said thirty-seven! What were the odds? ! ”

You laughed harder. “Fifty to one. ”

He groaned, glaring at you through his fingers.

You stretched, sitting up straighter, folding your hands into your lap, subtly squeezing your tits together despite them being covered by Ryan’s oversized hoodie. “So. Are you doing it? ”

Ryan stared at you. “Wait, what? ”

“Are you gonna do it? ” you repeated, calm as anything. “A bet’s a bet, right? ”

Ryan blinked. “You’re seriously okay with this? ”

You shrugged. “I mean… we’ve done worse things for fun. And it’s not like the actual video would get out. You trust Matt to just use the audio, right? ”

Ryan hesitated.

You snorted. “Okay, maybe not trust. But we both know he wouldn’t risk the fallout if he fucked this up. ”

Ryan exhaled slowly. “You’re too chill about this. ”

You smirked. “I think it’s funny. And kinda hot. ”

That made his stomach twist in a good way. He let out a breath, trying not to grin too much. “You’re insane. ”

“Takes one to date one, ” you shot back, standing up and meeting him at the edge of the living room. Placing your hands on his chest, you kissed him lightly, just grazing yours over his. “So? We doing this? ”

When Ryan hesitated, you looked at him with big doe eyes, lustful and pleading, subconsciously squeezing your legs together. Feeling your slick begin to drip, soaking your panties only hidden by the length of Ryan’s oversized hoodie, you stood on your tip toes, leaning into Ryan’s chest. As your breath hit his collarbone, and your hand drifted from his shirt to the bulge forming in his pants, Ryan’s attempt at an answer came out as a hushed, breathy groan instead.

You and him both knew that he wanted this just as much as you, just as much as Matt.

Ryan let out a slow breath, his hands settling on your waist, pulling you down from the nape of his neck in an attempt to compose himself. “Yeah, ” he finally said, “we’re doing this. ”

You gave him a sly grin and stepped back, leaving him momentarily stunned before you headed toward the bedroom. “Alright, then, ” you called over your shoulder, casual as anything. “Better get set up. ”

It took Ryan a second to shake off the feeling that he was in way over his head, but then he was moving—grabbing his backpack from beside the couch and fishing out the portable mic he usually used for podcasts when they weren’t in the studio. Not fancy, but clear enough audio- probably too clear.

He glanced toward the bedroom door, half-expecting you to pop your head out and laugh at him for taking it so seriously or tell him you had changed your mind. But you didn’t. So he kept fiddling.

If Ryan was going to do this, he was going to do it right, and after a few minutes of adjusting levels and running test clips (that you would absolutely make fun of him for later), he knocked on the bedroom door like he was about to walk into a job interview.

When there was no answer, he cracked it open, to meet your gaze as you raised a brow. “You’re knocking now? ”

When Ryan peaked his head in, he saw your nude figure lounging on the bed, bored from the wait and scrolling on your phone.

The messenger app was open, although Ryan couldn’t see it from where he stood, but with your glistening curves? He wouldn’t have noticed, regardless.

Shaking himself from the nervous excitement, he spoke, attempting to break the awkward air he was creating by his own volition with a joke, “I don’t know the etiquette for… this, ” Ryan said, gesturing vaguely to the mic dangling from his hand. “Should I have brought a clipboard? A waiver? ”

You snorted, sending one final text: “haha guess I owe you, ” before crawling across the bed and grabbing the mic from him. “Nah. We’re professionals. Plus, ” You looked at him slyly, “You know that I’ve been waiting for this large package of yours all day. ” You hesitated, “or was it too large for same-day shipping? ”

Ryan didn’t answer right away.

Your teasing snapped him out of his nerves—reminded him exactly how bad he’d been wanting you all day.

The shift in him was obvious.

He let the question hang in the air.

Heavy.

Deliberate.

He set the mic on the nightstand with careful precision.

You had controlled things up until now, and Ryan didn’t like giving up the upper hand—not in games with Matt, not with you.

But by holding the silence, by drawing out the moment, he reclaimed something.

His fingers lingered on the dials longer than necessary, adjusting levels he knew were fine.

Not buying time anymore.

Testing you.

Waiting.

And you gave him a reaction.

Subtle.

But it was there.

Propped on your elbows, head tilted, you watched him like he was a puzzle you were about to figure out.

There was amusement in your eyes.

But something else too.

A heat that had been building since the moment he told you about the bet.

That look made Ryan’s pulse thrum in his ears.

But he kept his face neutral.

No tells.

You weren’t fooled.

You never were.

You were waiting him out.

Letting him think he was calling the shots.

But Ryan was starting to realize the decision had been made long before either of you stepped into this room.

Maybe it was the second Matt smirked at him in the mailroom.

Maybe it was the moment you laughed at the dare.

Maybe it didn’t matter.

Because now?

It was happening.

He exhaled slowly and straightened up, rolling his shoulders.

The mic was live.

The red light glowed faintly.

Recording.

Picking up every breath.

Every shift of the sheets.

And soon, it would pick up you.

“You know Matt’s gonna be listening to this, right? ” you said, your voice light. Teasing. But your gaze flicked toward the mic.

Ryan followed your line of sight, jaw flexing.

“He’s waiting, ” you added, stretching your arms over your head, arching your back just enough to make it impossible to ignore.

Ryan’s fingers tightened slightly where they rested on the nightstand.

“He’s probably already hard thinking about it, ” you continued, tone almost absent, like you were talking about the weather.

Ryan’s jaw clenched.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? ” you asked, more curious than anything. “For him to hear me like this. To know it’s you making me sound that way. ”

His gaze snapped back to you. Dark. Focused.

You were still smiling. Still calm. But your eyes gave you away.

You were baiting him.

And he was taking it.

Ryan climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress as he leaned over you. His hand found your ankle, fingers wrapping around it like it was second nature. Like he’d done it a hundred times before.

He stroked along the curve, thumb dragging slow, deliberate circles over your skin as he moved higher.

Then, without looking at you—

“Spread. ”

The word came low. Rough. Not a question.

And you obeyed.

You shifted, legs parting, knees bending as you opened yourself up for him.

Ryan’s breath hitched for half a second.

But he didn’t falter.

Didn’t rush.

He settled between your legs, palms bracing on your thighs as he stared down at you. His thumbs swept slow paths over your skin, tracing invisible lines.

Testing.

Measuring.

“You’re already wet, ” he murmured, more to himself than you. But you heard it.

Your lips parted, breath catching. No words. Just air.

He watched you for a long moment. Dark eyes dragging over every inch of you like he was memorizing it. Taking stock before tearing it apart.

“Good girl, ” he said quietly, under his breath.

Your breathing hitched audibly.

And Ryan smirked.

“That’s gonna sound real nice on playback, ” he added, glancing toward the mic on the nightstand.

You let out a quiet laugh, but it broke halfway through.

“Hope Matt likes what he hears, ” you said, recovering quickly.

Ryan’s gaze snapped back to you. His smirk widened, but there was something sharper behind it now.

“Oh, he will, ” he said, voice low and steady.

His hands slid from your thighs to your hips, gripping tight enough that you knew you’d feel it tomorrow.

And then he dragged you down toward him.

The shift was sudden, enough that you gasped and grabbed at his shoulders.

Ryan wasn’t gentle.

He wasn’t hesitant.

His mouth was on yours before you could say another word—rough, claiming, his lips demanding yours. He kissed you like he wanted you to feel it in your spine.

Like he wanted it to echo through the mic.

And maybe he did.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer. Ryan growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth.

He wasn’t nervous anymore.

He was starving.

His lips broke from yours, trailing rough down your neck, teeth scraping lightly. You shivered, arching into him as your fingers tugged at his sleeves, impatient, wanting more—skin, heat, him.

You wanted him stripped down as bare as you were, but he was still fully clothed, and it was driving you insane.

But before you could push his shirt up, his hand shot out—wrapping around your wrist in a firm, sudden grip.

It wasn’t painful.

But it stopped you cold.

Commanding. Deliberate.

Your breath caught, a startled squeak slipping out before you could stop it.

Ryan’s eyes darkened immediately, zeroing in on you like he’d been waiting for that sound.

And then you heard it.

The faint, almost imperceptible click from the mic on the nightstand.

It picked up everything now—the soft slap of skin, the catch in your breath, the helpless sound you’d just made.

You flushed, glancing at the device.

Ryan was faster.

His grip on your wrist tightened just enough to bring your attention back to him.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear.

His voice was low and rough.

“Tonight’s all about you, baby, ” he murmured, dragging out every word. “You and Matt wanted this, right? ”

You shivered.

“Then let’s see how much noise I can get you to make. ”

His lips ghosted along your jaw. “Nothing about me. ”

His free hand slid between your thighs again, fingers dragging through your slick folds like he was testing just how ready you were.

Judging by his low exhale, he was more than satisfied.

“Let’s see if you can make him proud. ”

You barely had time to process it before Ryan’s mouth was on you.

Desperate. Hungry.

Like he’d been starved and just found water in the desert.

And he wasn’t planning to come up for air.

The sound that tore from your throat wasn’t pretty; it was raw and sudden, an uncontrolled cry that echoed in the room before breaking into a moan.

You barely caught your breath before another followed, sharper this time, as Ryan’s fingers found your clit.

His touch was careful—cruel in its precision. Pinching lightly, then rolling, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

Not enough to tip you over.

Not even close.

Just enough to punish you.

Punish you for teasing him.

For testing him.

For making him earn this.

You knew this side of Ryan.

This was what he did when you pushed him too far.

But this time, he wasn’t letting up like usual.

He kept going.

Kept pinching and rolling that sensitive bundle while his mouth worked you relentlessly—licking, sucking, dragging sounds from your throat like he was collecting them.

And you gave him plenty.

Pretty noises spilled out of you, slipping between helpless moans and shaky whines, giving Matt a full catalog to sift through later.

But none of them were the ones you knew he was waiting for.

Ryan was making you both wait.

Your moans softened into pleading whines.

“Please…” you whispered, your voice breaking.

Ryan hummed against you, the vibration sharp and deliberate.

He wasn’t done.

Not even close.

His fingers curled inside you, finding your sweet spot with infuriating ease. His thumb circled your clit, slow and tight, keeping you teetering on the edge but never letting you fall.

His mouth pressed hot, open kisses to the inside of your thigh, teeth scraping just enough to make you flinch.

Pain, pleasure—both wrapped in the same tight coil.

You moaned his name, thick with frustration and need.

Ryan smirked against your skin.

Calm.

Too calm.

Like he was enjoying this way too much.

And he was.

You squirmed, chasing his fingers.

He only tsked under his breath, tightening his grip on your thigh.

“I said I’d make you beg, ” he murmured. “I meant it. ”

And then your phone buzzed.

The sound was faint, muffled against the sheets.

But Ryan heard it.

He stilled, dark gaze flicking toward the nightstand.

Your phone was lit up.

From the last message you sent:

haha guess I owe you

But it wasn’t that message that caught his attention.

It was the new one.

The one that popped up on the screen as he watched.

Matt: You better. If you think Ryan has a package worth your pretty face and sexy body, you have no idea what Matt-izon Prime will get you.

For a moment, everything stopped.

Ryan’s breath hitched.

His fingers still buried inside you.

His jaw clenched, that calm confidence slipping into something darker.

And then he moved.

Fast.

His hand slipped from your body, leaving you empty and aching.

Before you could whimper, he was on you.

Rough hands gripping your hips, dragging you down the bed until your ass was flush with the edge.

Controlled.

But there was an urgency now.

A fury.

“Mine, ” Ryan growled, the word vibrating through his chest.

You barely had time to process it before he was there—lined up—and then he thrust inside you.

One hard, claiming stroke.

You screamed.

Your body arched, overwhelmed by the sudden fullness.

And you shattered.

Your orgasm ripped through you, lightning fast, your body clenching hard around him as he filled you completely.

“I bet you wish you were me right now, Matt. ”

His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open.

“But guess what? ”

His smirk twisted into something dangerous.

“Y/N is mine. ”

But Ryan didn’t slow.

He wasn’t gentle.

He was relentless.

He gripped your waist hard enough to bruise, holding you in place as he drove into you again.

Harder.

His free hand slid to your throat, pressing lightly—just enough to tilt your head back and keep your eyes on him.

“You’re not thinking about him now, are you? ” he demanded, voice dark but steady.

You shook your head, breathless.

“Say it. ”

Your breath hitched, tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.

But you found your voice.

“Ryan makes me feel better than you ever could, ” you gasped. “That’s why I’m with him. That’s why you’re a fucking loser. ”

Ryan’s eyes burned hotter. His pace didn’t falter.

He leaned in, his lips brushing your ear.

“Louder. ”

You whimpered as he thrust harder, dragging another broken sound from you.

“Louder, ” he growled again, his teeth scraping your jaw.

You cried out, voice cracking as you repeated it—louder, harsher.

“Ryan makes me feel better than you ever could! That’s why I’m with him, Matt! That’s why you’re a loser! ”

And Ryan smiled.

Dark.

Satisfied.

You weren’t just saying it.

You were living it.

The room was thick with heat.

Your labored breathing.

The slick sounds of Ryan moving inside you.

He hadn’t slowed. Not once.

And somehow, even with how rough he was, Ryan never lost that control. That precision—the kind of focus he brought to editing or mastering a track—he was applying it to you.

Deliberate. Exact.

Like he had something to prove.

Maybe to himself.

Maybe to Matt.

Maybe both.

Every thrust dragged another sound out of you, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body.

You were too sensitive.

Too raw.

But Ryan didn’t care.

He was relentless.

His hand slid from your throat to your jaw, forcing your gaze back to his when you tried to look away. His dark eyes locked on yours, burning with something you couldn’t quite name.

When he thrusted harder—deeper—you felt it.

The shift.

A little desperate now.

A little needy.

And then, with one final stroke, he pushed his mouth onto yours as he came deep inside you.

The moment he spilled inside you, something in you snapped.

You screamed, tearing away from the kiss, your body shaking apart in his arms.

When he let go, breath ragged, his expression dark but calmer now, his thumb brushed your cheek in a slow, almost… gentle way.

And then he said it.

“There’s the sound I was looking for. ”

His voice was rough. Satisfied.

And the second the words left his mouth, you realized what he meant.

The mic.

Still recording.

Still capturing everything.

That ragged cry—the one that had ripped from your throat when he finished—that was the sound Matt had been waiting for.

Ryan slowed, hips pressing deep and staying there, grinding slowly, making you tremble all over again.

He kissed you then. Soft. Deep. Like he hadn’t just wrecked you. Like you weren’t still shaking apart underneath him.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breathing slowly evening out.

“There it is, ” he murmured, voice lower now. “That’s the one. ”

You nodded, dazed.

Ryan chuckled, then kissed you again—lingering this time.

His hand stroked gently over your thigh while the other reached for the mic, carefully stopping the recording.

He glanced at the audio file briefly, his expression flickering with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Perfect, ” he said, after a beat.

Epilogue:

The next day, Ryan was back at the Plex.

Editing.

Laughing with Tucker.

Things felt normal.

Like nothing had happened.

Until Matt found him in the kitchen.

Ryan didn’t hear him at first. He was digging through the fridge, cracking open a LaCroix when Matt leaned against the counter, beer in hand, that familiar smug grin on his face.

“File was good, ” Matt said casually.

Ryan’s head snapped up.

He schooled his expression fast.

“Yeah? ” he asked, keeping his voice even.

“Yeah. ”

Matt took a slow sip. His eyes gleamed.

“Y/N sounded… amazing. ”

Ryan’s jaw tightened, but he forced a short laugh.

“Guess we’re even then. ”

Matt chuckled. “For now. ”

There was a beat of silence.

Heavy.