#Ronan Summers imagine

[tawneybel]

Note: “can you do a n/sfw male reader for Ryan... the hot firefighter stripper, from Dead Island game 2?” Clean, despite mention of enema.  

Imagine Ryan indulging your fireman fantasy. 

“I’m surprised you were able to recognize me. You must not watch a lot of porn.”

Somehow it wasn’t immediately apparent that Ryan was a stripper. Slipped in and out of fun personas for a living. Like you. (The massive hotness should have been a giveaway.) Ryan wasn’t doing a good job of hiding the fact he recognized you, though. Not even in front of the others. They probably thought he was developing a crush. Unaware he had been crushing on you for a few years. 

You began to suspect as much in Emily Jaunt’s exercise room. Emily sat on a workout bench; you sat on a couch behind her. She stared at the floor, gun in hand, while you drank in Ryan’s unconscious body. Weaponless, you readied yourself to pull Emily back if he was infected and she lost her nerve. You wouldn’t blame her. 

Just as you were pondering whether the undead were smart enough to uncuff themselves, Ryan woke up. 

“Take these off,” he said, jigging his wrist. “My fever’s gone. I’m feeling human again.”

“They’re toy cuffs,” explained Emily, “just push the button.” 

Ryan did. Then noticed they weren’t alone. His eyes darted to you. And widened. 

Occasionally people recognized you in public. Now most of them were probably more interested in eating brain than giving it. This firefighter might be the last compatible man on earth. Hopefully not, but the interest was definitely mutual from the get go. Waiting for the bitee to wake up, you wanted to touch him so badly. Like how he’d wanted to touch you so badly since stumbling upon your OnlyFans. 

“So if you’re a firefighter,” you drawled, taking in his semi-nude form. “So if you’re a fireman… Does that make you, um, the authority?”

Ryan groaned from his seat on the bed. Half-naked and semi-erect, he’d do anything for you. Anything he’d seen you do in those videos. And more. That’s what he told you on the way to the guest bedroom, where you whipped out a handheld camera. He ditched his shirt outside the door and you unzipped his pants. You almost wanted him to leave them on, but that ass. Just get him to lower them, duh, you told your lust-addled brain. Then you had an idea. You always carried an enema-kit, for any impromptu shooting. Not just bulbs, but a tube that could dilate a hole up to three inches ad hoc. Then power wash the colon. And you’d never recorded a partner rinsing himself out for your cock. 

You initially wanted to ask Emily for another pair of handcuffs, then decided nah. You’d make your new boy do the work. 

“I’m sure your partners ask you to roleplay a lot, right?”

Flushed, Ryan nodded. You’d suspected he hadn’t so much as set foot in a fire station. Or a police station, because he hadn’t been able to tell they were toy cuffs. (Even if he had shown up to Emily’s impersonating a cop, you’d be the one conducting a cavity search.) Later, he’d mention he did have experience with handcuffs. It was just that, waking up, he hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. 

“I’m not going to ask you to fireman carry me or anything… Unless you want to try it.”

It wasn’t like you could nestle a regular hose’s nozzle, let alone a fire hose, inside his tight ass. And Emily wouldn’t appreciate you utilizing her shower cord that way. For all you knew, that was her personal pleasurer. 

If Emily wasn’t already a mainstream actress, she’d make a great adult-

Ryan’s groan brought you back to reality. He needed something fit snugly inside that hole. Stat. His hands were already enticingly spreading his cheeks apart. 

“Yeah, a little wider,” you encouraged, zooming in, prompting Ryan to further splay his asshole. Frequent rewatches of your videos let him know it’d soon be spread to its limits. At least you had lube, from that kit you just happened to be carrying with your other stuff. Ryan would reflect on how happy he was you kept it in case of unexpected ass-fucking proposals. Post-apocalyptic ass-fucking proposals.

Note: Originally gonna be 2.5+ words, but I keep getting interrupted in the middle of smut writing. :/ So back to writing shorter images on my phone it is.

[lets-throw-bacchanal]

This read like a Ronan Lynch/Joseph Kavinsky fanficion and honestly, I’m not complaining

[starkwlkr]

Hi Jen!!!❤️❤️❤️

I saw your requests were open so possibly, social media au or not, Cillian Murphy’s or Christopher Nolan’s daughter (either one would be fine, but I saw your imagine about Nolan!reader x Cillian so maybe Cillian would be better, either one is fine though) dating Charles Leclerc or lando Norris

(I don’t know if this has been done yet but it feels very random, but it I saw you wrote for F1 and Cillian so I just thought of that crossover. Couldn’t decide which driver I wanted to request for so I’ll leave it up to you between Charles and lando)

But if you do, then thank you!!!

my favorite nepo baby | lando norris

faceclaim saorsie ronan (don’t hate me, yes ik there’s more irish actresses but i love saoirse) also i love this request, mixing random fandoms is my favorite thing ever

liked by maxverstappen1, ynfans and 56,377 others

danielricciardo happy birthday, lady bird

mclarentears WHAT

dannyric333 does daniel know everyone??

bottaszz you don’t understand THIS IS IMPORTANT TO ME

landonorris my favorite nepo baby

danielricciardo the nepo baby says thank you

landonorris tell the nepo baby to make an account

danielricciardo no - the nepo baby

landonorris i tried

vettelsbees this is my roman empire

view all 23,477 comments

summer break

Y/n Murphy only knew Daniel Ricciardo because he had friends everywhere. It was only a matter of time before the Irish actress met the famous honey badger. Soon, his friends became her friends and the whole friend group was hanging out everywhere.

One of their hang out spots was the F1 paddock. Daniel insisted for Y/n to come to his favorite race, the Austin Grand Prix. It was no secret that Daniel is secretly a Texan so he wanted his new friend to experience the Texas atmosphere.

“We need to get you some boots and maybe a longhorns jersey. You’ll look so cool, trust me.” Daniel said as him, Heidi and Y/n walked into the AlphaTauri garage.

“He’s going to convert you into a Texan.” Heidi whispered to Y/n.

“Can you imagine me going home to my father speaking with a texas accent? He’ll have a stroke!” Y/n laughed.

“I bet that by the end of the day, you’ll love texas as much as I do.” Daniel smirked. “Maybe you’ll find a country boy you can take home to your old man.”

“Oh god, he’s going to have more strokes, die then come back and have more strokes.”

“Well then I can get you a British boy that won’t make your old man die.”

Y/n knew who Daniel was referring to. On the day of her birthday, which was a few days ago, Daniel showed her the comments that Lando had left on his post.

‘my favorite nepo baby’

While she told everyone she didn’t have an Instagram account, she had a secret one that only had about twenty followers which were close family and friends. She used that account to look at Lando’s account. She was going to lie, he was attractive.

“Just make an instagram! That boy keeps messaging me about you.” Daniel pleaded.

“I don’t use social media, I tried and I didn’t like it.” What a lie.

“Okay well can you at least talk to him? Wait, I should go with you, he might be the one having a stroke.”

So while Heidi stayed back in the garage, Daniel accompanied Y/n to the Mclaren garage so Lando could finally meet his favorite nepo baby. Y/n started to feel nervous, why? She didn’t know, she hardly knew Lando apart from his instagram posts.

“Hey Landoooooo!” Daniel dragged out the o.

“Is that Daniel Ric—” Lando’s voice stopped when he noticed who was standing beside Daniel.

“Is he having a stroke? I can’t tell.” Daniel whispered to Y/n.

“Hi . . . You’re y/n. Wow.” Lando tried to play it cool. “I’m Lando, but I’m guessing you already knew that because of the giant Australian yelling my name. Thank you Daniel.”

“Glad I could be of service. I have to go get ready, but you two go ahead and talk. Y/n, I’ve been told the Mclaren garage is the best spot to watch a race so . . bye!”

And all thanks to Daniel Ricciardo and his match making skills, your dad, Cillian, didn’t have a stroke when he finally met Lando.

[stereor4t]

lesbian movies I've seen so far (review based on my tastes)

I'm going to give my opinion of the lesbian movies I've seen so far and I'm going to give them a score from 1 to 5 stars :3 it may contain some spoilers

Bound(1996)

For the year this movie was made, I was actually surprised by the END of it(fuck the obsession with killing the protagonist). I didn’t really have much faith in it by how it stars, but man, I was so surprised, I loved it, be gay do crime. ★★★★☆

Gia(1998)

God, this movie is my new roman empire, I didn’t know about Gia’s story, but the ending of the movie DESTROYED ME. the scene where shes talking with Linda and she says: now we have all the time in the world, I was so moved by it, I loved it. It’s currently one of my favorite movies.★★★★★

Lost and delirious(2001)

ugh shakespearean shit, this movie touches more than one of us when it comes to the experience of liking girls. I liked it but I felt like there was a lot of wasted potential that could’ve made it great, tbh i just wanted Paulie to be happy; the fact the Piper Perabo is in it helps the score too. ★★★☆☆

D.E.B.S.(2004)

ITS THE BEST FUCKING MOVIE IN THE WORLD, GOD. I actually hated this movie before watching it ‘cause I thought it was some dumb comedy, but god, when I gave it a chance it BLEW ME AWAY. If you want to see some lesbian spies enemies to lovers shit watch debs.  ★★★★★

My summer of love(2004)

Personally, I HATED this movie kjj, I didn’t really get ANYTHING at all, like it felt like everything was just too rushed??? like when did they even fall in love lol? Gets points just for Emily Blunt. ★★☆☆☆

Imagine me & you(2005)

Piper Perabo again and Lena Heady THE WOMAN. This movie is ART, my fav movie, it’s beautiful, comfort movie af. The true don’t let your husband keep you from meeting your future wife. ★★★★★

Loving Annabelle(2006)

This movie was made for all of us who once liked a teacher or profesor. I liked it quite a lot, but I feel like seize it’s true potential. Personally, I choose to think that the alternative ending it’s the true one lol. ★★★☆☆

Bloomington(2010)

Again for us that like fantasizing about our teachers. I like this movie but again, I feel like they didn’t really make the most of it jskdja annoying af bitching about the same but yeah, it bothered me. Anyway, i liked the movie, and I didn’t like the ending at all,I felt bad for the poor teacher :c. ★★★☆☆

A perfect ending(2012)

I know a lot of people hate this movie and think it’s shit, but I personally love it lol. Idk I remember that when I watched it it got me super emotional and i liked it a lot, dont care what anyone says to me it’s a good movie. ★★★☆☆

The girl king(2015)

★☆☆☆☆

Didn’t like it at all, boring af, i didn’t really get it, idk, i was expecting more. ★☆☆☆☆

First girl i loved(2016)

Im fond of this movie, it was one of the first ones I saw, the ending just made a me a bit frustrated, but I liked it, Brianna Hildebrand with a wig funny as hell. ★★★☆☆

Disobedience(2017)

Rachel Weisz and McAdams DAMN. Great movie, I liked it in all aspects. Although the ending wasn’t what I expected I still liked it. ★★★★★

Tell it to the bees(2018)

Mmm I think this movie is kinda meh, like it’s okay but I feel like it lacks something for me to like it, tho I didn’t get the ending, like I don’t understand the decisions each one took. ★★☆☆☆

Ammonite(2020)

Kate Winslet and Saoirse Ronan!!!! I liked it but I didn’t love it, I never got to understand if Mary hated or loved Charlotte. The ending got me frustrated!!! ★★★☆☆

Crush(2022)

The kind of movie you gotta watch after Gia, I liked it I thought it was silly, like very much teenage romcom sort of shit, like the Kissing Booth but for lesbians. ★★★☆☆

You can live forever(2022)

I think this is a great movie, interesting story, I wasn’t expecting the whole ending sequence, what Marike says to Jamie destroyed me, in my head theyre the young version of the Disobedience ones. ★★★★★

Booksmart(2019)

GREAT MOVIE, very entertaining and funny, I liked it quite a lot, it’s perfect to watch it with friends. Gigi is just like me fr best character ever. ★★★★★

[micamicster]

Super Rich Kids

Close my eyes and feel the crash...

I wrote this one on post-its on a trans-continental flight after my phone (where i was re-reading the raven cycle) died. 0/10 plane experience would not recommend but I did manage to entertain myself! And now hopefully you as well!

When Ronan pulled into Monmouth Manufacturing he knew Gansey wouldn’t be there. Adam Parrish was, though, sitting on the steps in the golden afternoon light, bike dumped to the side in dying grass. He didn’t so much as flicker an eyelid when Ronan bootlegged the BMW into an approximation of parking on the far side of the lot, which was fine because that’s how he would have parked the car anyway, whether or not Adam was here.

Ronan was pretty sure that Gansey had arranged a shift system with the other boys, to prevent Ronan from being unaccompanied on the rare occasions of his own absence. The idea of a babysitter should have rankled Ronan, but Adam did not seem particularly invested in his role. Small favors.

As he got out of the car he gave Adam his customary once-over, as brief as it was habitual. You could notice a lot in a single glance, if you were Ronan, glancing at Adam.

Adam was wearing long sleeves (his father? Or just because it was October?) and his faded camo pants, the ones Ronan said made him look like a jingoistic meathead. They had recently acquired a tear in one knee. Not in the stylish, deliberate manner in which Ronan’s own jeans were shredded, but awkwardly, in an L-shape, where they had caught on some jagged edge and given way before even careful Adam had noticed and unhooked himself. The tear gaped open at times, like it was doing now, revealing Adam’s knobby left knee and, worse, a triangle of his brown thigh.

Ronan looked away.

Ronan never allowed himself, even in dreams, to trespass beyond the carefully demarcated boundaries of Adam’s clothes. And Adam was usually helpful in the maintenance of this boundary. Unlike Gansey, who could be found working on his model Henrietta in boxers at all hours of the night, or wandering to and from the shower in a towel, absent-mindedly forgetting his clothes in bathroom or bedroom. Unlike the boys Ronan played tennis with, who stripped down casually in the locker room after practice. Unlike even Ronan himself, who’d never met a shirt he couldn’t rip the sleeves off; Adam was always fully covered.

This summer, foolishly, Ronan had imagined that this might change. Now that the hideous secrets Adam protected with his long sleeves were no longer his alone. But by now he knew what kept those sleeves in place, something that Adam had already understood: that knowing and seeing are two very different things.

For example: this. Ronan knew that Adam, like most people who walked around on earth under their own power, possessed thighs. Two of them, attached in the normal way to other body parts, such as knees and hips. To know this was one thing.

Now that he’d seen it, he couldn’t stop seeing it. The way his knee bent, and the muscle above shifted as Adam made room on the steps for him. Ronan was looking away, out at the familiar, grounding, skid marks on the concrete of Monmouth’s lot, but he could picture in their place with deadly accuracy the hinge of Adam’s knee, the tanned skin of his thigh, scattered with golden-brown hair. He could dream about pressing his face against it.

He picked up a rock and hurled it. It glanced off the side of the soulless suburban and fell anticlimactically into the grass dying by the rear tire. It didn’t help.

Adam shifted next to him, subtly.

“What?” said Ronan. “Impressed?”

“Surprised, more like. I thought you were supposed to be the tennis star.”

“You think you can do better?” Ronan pried another hunk of gravel or concrete out of the dirt and tossed it in his left hand, tauntingly.

“I know I can.”

“But?”

“But,” said Adam, with some hint of exasperation coloring his voice, “I’m not going to sit here chunking rocks at Gansey’s car to prove it. My ego’s not that fragile.” His accent slipped out on chunkin’, not as if Ronan had pissed him off enough to forget to hide it, but as if it was a word he’d never used any other way.

Ronan threw his rock again. This was, if anything, a worse throw than before, and it skittered harmlessly across the suburban’s roof.

Adam made a small but contemptuous noise.

“Don’t give me that shit, man. You know he hates this fucking car.”

“That was for your shitty aim.”

“Come on then.” Ronan hefted another piece of gravel. “Ten points if you knock out his taillight.”

“It costs a hundred and five dollars to replace a taillight on that make and model. Plus tax.”

Ronan’s brief cheer was collapsing again. “I’ll pay you a hundred bucks to bust Dick’s lights.”

Adam blinked slowly, his dusty eyelashes obscuring the contempt in his eyes for a brief moment. “I’ll leave.” (He wouldn’t).

Ronan dropped the rock. Next to him Adam sighed. Abruptly, he put out his hand. “Telephone pole. Six feet from the top.”

Ronan swept back up the rock and dropped it into his hand. Their fingers did not touch. His heart thudded.

Adam tossed the rock once, testing its weight while his gaze, cool and assessing, remained on the telephone pole. It was a splintered, tilting thing, shamed by his attentions. In one smooth, economical movement, he rose to his feet and let the rock fly. His leg went forward, knee jutting out of his clothes, his back curved, and his arm swept around in an arc, fingers scraping at the blue October sky. Ronan didn’t need to turn his head to know if the rock hit—he could see it in the brief hard satisfaction on Adam’s face.

Adam turned back to him, one eyebrow cocked.

“You’re going to have to do better than that if you want to earn that hundred,”

Adam shrugged. The gesture was disinterested, but there was a quirk to his mouth that contradicted it. “I know nothing blew up, but…”

Ronan already had another rock in his hand. “West corner lightbulb. It breaks or it doesn’t count.” Adam rolled his eyes, but turned agreeably to watch Ronan miss.

“Would you like to get your tennis racket?”

“Eat me,” said Ronan. (Maybe).

They traded shots back and forth for a while, calling increasingly specific and complex plays.

“Bullshit. Bullshit.”

“Get the government to pay for some glasses, Parrish, and then come back and try to tell me that wasn’t a fucking bullseye—”

“It wasn’t even close! You—”

“You calling me a liar?” Ronan loomed, and Adam, as usual, was unimpressed.

“Just because you don’t lie doesn’t make you right all the time! Like when you said that quote on Tuesday was Seneca. It doesn’t stop being Martial just because you’ve got a child’s sense of morality—”

“See, right there.” Ronan pointed triumphantly at an invisible scuff mark on the doorsill, marking where his handful of gravel had made impact.

Adam gave it a skeptical glance. His face was faintly flushed from exertion in the cold air, but his eyes were as cool and considering as ever. “What we need,” he said, “is a knife.”

Ronan was not allowed knives.

~

“Are you trying to stab each other in the feet? Why are your shoes off! It’s October!”

“Equal playing field.” Ronan wiggled his toes against the cold asphalt. “Parrish’s shitty knife is no match for my boots.” Over Gansey’s head, Ronan tried to catch Adam’s eye, to share a ‘can you believe him’ sort of look. Adam’s embarrassment over being caught acting irresponsibly meant Ronan could expect the look to be rebuffed, but he couldn’t help himself from trying it anyway.

Adam was bent over, eyes hidden. He carefully dusted off his socked feet one at a time before sliding them back into his shoes, as though the socks or sneakers could look any worse. A little parking lot crud might improve their appearance, actually.

Next to him, Gansey was still fussing. Without the pressure release valve of eye contact with someone who knew Gansey was overreacting, Ronan snapped, “Come off it, man, I’m not going to slit my throat while Parrish watches. He can’t afford that caliber of snuff film.”

Gansey’s concern transformed into revulsion, but underneath it he looked hurt, which was far far worse.

Adam straightened up. “We were just using it to mark where we hit. Honestly, we could have done it tossing a sharpie, but neither of us had one.” He sounded conciliatory, which pissed Ronan off. But Gansey was letting it go, returning the knife to Adam with an apologetic smile. Sorry for the fuss. Sorry for Ronan. Ronan’s bare feet were cold against the asphalt.

“Well? Are you going to throw or not, Parrish?” he said belligerently.

Adam rolled his eyes, but obligingly stooped for gravel and let one fly at Ronan’s open bedroom window, a shot he made easily.

Gansey whistled. “You’ve got quite the arm on you. How come you’re not on the Algionby baseball team?”

Adam shifted his feet, awkwardly.

“Please,” scoffed Ronan, “he’s not a team player.”

Gansey did not let it go. “Bet you’d have a better fastball than both our pitchers.”

There was a pause, during which Adam’s face clearly showed all of the thoughts he was trying to corral into a polite response to Gansey’s unconsidered enthusiasm. Ronan got there first. “Yeah, Parrish, why not hitch your wagon to the star of organized sports, like every other rags to riches wannabe?”

“Ronan!” said Gansey, Ronan’s offensiveness registering where his own had not.

“Hitch my wagon to a star?” Adam was unruffled. “I thought quoting Transcendentalists could get you excommunicated.”

“Who said I know it’s Emerson. It’s a sourceless idiom to those of us who aren’t sad little nerds.”

Adam smirked. The smirk said, I never said Emerson. His words said, “Gansey’s damning me with faint praise. No one’s going pro out of an Algionby sport team. Even tennis.”

“Ouch,” said Ronan, cheerfully. “Hit me where it really hurts. My school pride.”

~

Now that Gansey had arrived, his plans for the day took precedence over noble pastimes such as flipping pocketknives at each other’s feet. His plans involved comparing readings from various instruments and then placing said various instruments in various new locations, all of which were equally arbitrary (to Ronan’s eyes) and inaccessible. Gansey’s plans involved him waiting by the car to monitor the readings while people hiked with antennae to the outermost reaches of the signal. People, in this instance, being Ronan and Adam, Noah having mysteriously and silently fucked off, as he so often did when a job required carrying anything.

Ronan put his head down and trudged. It was brambly here, and slightly damp, and he was beginning to work up the kind of counter-intuitive sweat that appears from working in the cold, the kind that makes you colder later.

As the person leading the hike, custom would dictate that he should catch and hold the long clinging arms of the brambles for the following hiker. This presented a dilemma. Ronan compromised, and set about stomping the multiflora into the ground as he walked. Scarlet hips burst under his feet, invasive and beautiful, spreading their millions of seeds across the damp earth. Noxious weeds.

“It’s too unreliable,” said Adam, into the silence. “Sports. It all depends on… your physical condition.”

“And your condition is shit.”

There was Adam’s ironic smile. “Yes. So.” He shrugged. There was the part they weren’t saying, which was that his physical condition could always get worse. Unexpectedly.

“My dad hates baseball.” Ronan heard himself make the slip—hates and not hated—and a spark of fury burned through him, brief and inconsequential.

“My dad loves it.”

They marched on in silence.

Adam swore as a bramble Ronan had beaten down sprang up again, catching him right across the tear, where his skin was exposed. He bent to unhook it from the camo with deft, deliberate hands. “What?” he said, like he could feel Ronan’s eyes.

Ronan looked away. “Why not the military?” He kicked purposelessly at the bramble and heard Adam sigh. “And don’t tell me you never thought about it. Test scores like yours out in hicksville high school, you must have had recruiters hopping all over you like fleas.”

“Would you believe I had a moral objection?” Adam’s smile was self-deprecating. Ronan studied it.

“No.”

Adam shrugged. It, too, was self-deprecating.

“I think you had a superiority objection. You think you’re too smart for that shit.”

Adam blinked at him. “Do you think I’m wrong?”

Ronan snorted. “Hell no. You can do better than getting blown up in a desert for the United States government.”

The smile, when it came, was small and stunning. “Damned by faint praise again.”

[adamprrishcycle]

Trade offer: you receive my decladam fic, I receive the freedom of writing a fic for fun in one sitting and not agonising over it and just releasing it out into the universe (for fun!! imagine!)

It’s called A Full Moon and if you’re a pynch purist, I’m sorry adam is bad but it’s good for him (me)

Also posting below the cut because (I’m having fun remember!) but I really appreciate any interaction with this fic on ao3

A Full Moon

The kitchen was dark. The sun had flooded through the smudged glass of the window for the long hours of the day, but now night had fallen and a full moon shone a path of silver across the grass and it winked through the window, giving the darkness an eerie glow. No one had been back inside the house since night fell and the firepit they sat around was well tended and chatter and laughter filled the air. The flames licked skywards and smoke rose in a blue spiral as the air got colder and what was left of the Lynch family and the people they loved most huddled closer.

Adam Parrish placed the stack of plates by the kitchen sink without turning the light on. He knew the farmhouse well, knew his way in the dark, knew which floorboards were prone to creaking. It had been his home three summers back and every holiday and break since.

The door swung on it’s hinges and someone else came into the kitchen with a creak and he turned, making out the familiar shape of them in the doorway and watched as Declan Lynch’s face came into view, pale skin and dark hair lit by the moonlight through the window. He placed more dishes down beside Adam and the closeness made his skin prickle.

The silence was intentional and weighted down with unspoken words like rocks held in pockets and the length of time that had passed between then and now.

Adam could hear his own heart thudding in his chest, the sound loud inside his head and he held the wooden countertop with one hand, turning his body, eyes lingering where the dishes were stacked for a moment. He counted the seconds.

Flicking his gaze up, he could just make out Declan’s eyes in the darkness and then his hands came up on Adam’s waist, crowding him against the sink, chest to chest. There was a moment of hesitation in which Adam heard the hiss of his own drawn breath and then Declan kissed him. His tongue was the first thing that touched Adam’s lips and Adam opened his mouth, giving over without a second thought.

The memory of another night like this still cluttered the back of Adam’s mind. Ronan gone, Declan turning up at Adam’s dorm room over and over again assuming they had something in common, pushing his anxiety and his grief and the filth of it all at Adam and wanting him to do something about it. It was their best kept secret and Adam wasn’t sure that even Jordan had seen Declan like that before, or since.

Declan smelled of woodsmoke from the fire and his tongue was hot in Adam’s mouth as he kissed him hungrily, the sound of this hunger filling the quiet house. He wound his arms around Adam’s shoulders and Adam mirrored him effortlessly, hands sliding around Declan’s body, the feel of him sickeningly familiar to the body Adam shared a bed with each night.

It wasn’t his fault the Lynch brothers were as similar as they were different. It wasn’t his fault that he had found something in Declan over that winter three years ago that he regretted, but he also couldn’t deny. Adam hadn’t done anything wrong back then and faintly, he considered that what he was doing now was the worst betrayal, but he couldn’t stop. It was self-indulgent and comforting, it was appalling and wrong and he could not stop.

Finally, Declan pulled away but he didn’t let go, he leaned heavily into Adam, arms still slung around him as he leaned into his good ear.

“I’ll never forgive myself,” he whispered miserably.

Adam held him close, hugging him tightly, thinking that if he didn’t keep his arms wrapped around him like this, Declan might fall to the ground. His voice hadn’t sounded like this voice and in return, Adam held him in a way he hadn’t held him in years.

The sound of laughter came from outside and Declan stiffened in Adam’s arms but didn’t let go. He stayed there, his breath soft against the side of Adam’s face and down his neck.

“I think it’s good,” Adam murmured, turning his face to speak into Declan’s thick hair. “The guilt. It’s good for us.”

“What?” Declan leaned back, steady on his feet as he peered into Adam’s face but Adam reckoned he was in shadow with his back to the moonlit window so he felt braver as he spoke, keeping the emotion clear of his voice.

“We should feel awful.”

Declan released him with the hint of a shove, jolting Adam into the countertop, causing him to catch his elbow on the stack of plates and they rattled. Declan stood there, his chest rising and falling, a look of disgust and blame on his face until a streak of clouds passed in front of the full moon outside and the darkness crept closer.

“Don’t tell him,” Declan said, a silhouette in the black, his whisper unnecessary and loud. Adam shook his head. He could live with the guilt, could keep it in the rotten part of his heart, drip feeding him poison that would never touch Ronan’s lips.

“This is the last time,” Adam said, though what he wanted and what he needed were two very different things.

Declan agreed with a yeah, or a yes, and then he swore colourfully in a way that reminded Adam of Ronan and then as he left the kitchen, he aimed a kick at a chair that sent it into the wall with a crack.

Adam washed his hands in the sink, letting the cold water fall over his wrists, cooling him and slowing his erratic pulse. He looked out at the moon which had been released from the clouds and it looked back at him like a huge, glowing eye. It had seen everything.

The door opened behind him and the floor creaked in the place he knew it would as someone approached him straight on and then two hands circled Adam’s middle. The smell of woodsmoke again, the familiar pressure of those hands that, for a moment, had him freezing up because until the person holding him spoke, he wasn’t sure which Lynch it was. The absurdity of it made him want to laugh, though he didn’t find it humorous in the least.

“Why’re you washing dishes in the dark?”

Adam shut the water off and tilted his head to one side to let Ronan kiss the side of his neck and his heartbeat, which had only just begun to steady, kicked up its rhythm once more, his body as eager for Ronan as it had been for his brother moments before.

He rolled his neck, leaning his head back on Ronan’s shoulder, squinting towards the glass where the moon continued to watch, painting the scene in silver, catching Adam in his lie, keeping his secret and refusing to look away.

[xstarkillerx]

omg the last gif u posted….. honestly gives me step bro brian vibes idk

Gif

Doesn't it!!!!! You know just yesterday I was thinking about high school/college Brian being a varsity athlete. Football of course, with baseball being something he did more on the side for fun (Indy said he probably did little league, played in middle school but got more casual with baseball as he got older). I don't imagine sports is what he went to school for but he did join teams because he's just a naturally athletic guy and what else is there to really do in Barstow besides throw a ball and jack cars.

So just picturing that version of him, he probably did community college in Barstow given his juvie record and the shit he was doing in his youth. You would leave for UCLA and come home every summer to see him, pretty as ever. I think it's always an interesting thing to watch someone progress and grow out of high school and into adulthood. With you being younger, the way he exists in your mind for a very long time is this guy who was popular, well liked, scraped by on his grades but got into a lot of trouble, now every time you come back he's just a little bit older, a little more mature but still kinda coasting, stumbling into the career of law enforcement even if he doesn't really care about it and it would eventually drive a wedge between him and Ronan. And somewhere in the middle of it you fuck or kiss or something idk, it seriously does give step brother Brian vibes though 🤞

[threewaywithdelusion]

Ronan/Adam Cheating Fic

Ronan always hated how casually Declan treated love. 

He watched his brother go through a dozen relationships with girls who didn’t mean anything. He watched as Declan showed them off like arm candy without learning anything real about them. As Declan dated for sex, or appearances, or whatever else ticked a box on his to-do list that week. He couldn’t understand how Declan could be with those girls without loving them. How he could use them, dismiss them, cheat on them. 

Ronan swore he would never be anything like his brother.

He looks down at the arm around his naked waist, tan skin against white sheets.

It’s not Adam’s hand pressed against his skin.

***

Adam is working when Ronan comes home. He’s sitting on the couch, laptop in his lap, looking through a database for reliable sources. He’s on his second cup of coffee even though it isn’t quite 9 am yet and he’s been trying to sleep in this summer. But the paper is due on the first day of class and Adam has spent most of the summer working at Boyd’s, jumping into the swimming hole at the Barns, and going on long drives where he and Ronan make out over the gearshift and then fool around in the back of the BMW. He told Ronan to go spend time with Gansey — back from traveling the world and staying in Henrietta for the month before he heads to Georgetown — this weekend so he could get started on the paper. He needs to impress the professor if he wants to get offered a research assistant position, which means he needs peace and quiet, and Ronan is much too tempting a distraction.

Adam is listening to music in one earbud, trying to motivate himself for several hours of sitting in the same spot and digging through obscure peer-reviewed papers, when the door opens. Adam shuts off the music. 

Ronan is quiet as he comes in, excepting the moment when he knocks into the table in the entryway and curses up a storm. 

Adam looks up from his computer when he hears that.

Ronan enters the living room a moment later, a disgruntled look on his face.

“The table hasn’t moved,” Adam says. “You could try walking around it one of these days.”

Ronan’s supposed to flip him off and say something about the ugly-ass table being too big for the hallway and how Adam should allow him to dream up a nicer one that won’t attack Ronan every single day.

Instead Ronan just says “yeah okay.”

It doesn’t even sound sarcastic.

Adam frowns. “Are you okay?”

Ronan tenses. “Yeah.”

“Hungover?” 

Ronan knows that Adam doesn’t like it when he drinks. They’ve reached a sort of unspoken compromise; Adam doesn’t complain if Ronan drinks and in return Ronan keeps the drinking in their apartment to a minimum and goes out when he wants to get shitfaced. It’s not unusual for Ronan to creep in early in the morning, nursing a bad hangover and grumbling over-dramatically, though it has become less common recently.

��Fuck off, Parrish, you’re not my babysitter.”

There’s real venom in Ronan’s voice, which takes Adam by surprise. Ronan doesn’t usually lash out so badly anymore, especially over something as innocuous as this line of questioning. 

Adam gives Ronan an unimpressed look and turns back to his laptop. If Ronan’s acting this shitty because of a hangover, he’ll regret it later. Adam will let him go chug some water and nap for a bit and talk it over with him when he’s in a better mood. 

Ronan does go into the kitchen. But instead of emerging quickly with a water and some Advil, the way he does when he’s hung over, he stays in there. Dull thuds echo all the way to the couch. Adam can picture Ronan slamming down plates and cups too hard, closing cabinets with all his strength just because he can. 

But he has to imagine it, because Ronan never acts like this. He’s loud and destructive, yes, but not like this. He drives too fast and blasts his music too loud and comes up with stupid game ideas that end up with them both getting road-rash, but he’s careful to only engage in a particular kind of stupidity. The dumb teenage kind that feels a bit like freedom, even as it’s wild and dangerous and occasionally angry. 

Ronan knows Adam doesn’t like slamming cabinets or plates being set down aggressively. That’s probably why he’s in the other room right now, trying to hide whatever aggression this is from Adam. 

It’s still really unusual for Ronan to be this careless, so Adam goes to check on his boyfriend. 

Ronan is standing over the sink, his head bowed down between his shoulders. All Adam can see is the back of his leather jacket, the tense line of his posture. 

There’s a plate of eggs on the table, with a cup of water and a coffee, but they’re all untouched. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Adam asks. 

Ronan spins around, startled, and Adam is surprised to see tears on his cheeks. He immediately softens, stepping further into the room. “Ronan?”

“Shit,” Ronan says, wiping aggressively at his cheeks. “I didn’t realize you could hear that. Shit. I’m sorry.”

He looks genuinely remorseful, no defenses or snarky attitudes to be found. He doesn’t say anything about the tears, though he must know Adam has seen them. 

“Ronan,” Adam says. 

“I thought you were listening to music,” Ronan says, still explaining the wrong thing. “Don’t you have a nerd paper due this week? You always listen to music when you do research.”

“I turned it off to say hello to you before I realized you were so cheery this morning,” Adam snarks. “But we can circle back to how to close a cabinet like a normal person. What’s going on?”

Ronan looks pained. “Just go do your paper. I’ll keep it down.”

“Lynch,” Adam snaps. 

“Parrish,” Ronan snaps back. “Just leave me alone. I have a killer goddamn headache and I can’t do this right now.”

Adam eyes the full glass of water on the table. He strides to the nearest cabinet, grabs the bottle of Advil, and pours two into his palm. He slams the cabinet shut a little harder than he needs to, trying to ignore the hypocrisy, and slaps the pills into Ronan’s palm. 

Ronan stares at the little red pills like he’s never seen them before. Then he sets them on the counter beside himself. 

Adam expects him to move to grab the water but he doesn’t, he just keeps standing there. 

Oh. This is Ronan punishing himself. 

Adam takes a deep breath. He’s trying to do better. He and Ronan don’t fight as much as they used to before they started dating, and a big part of that is because they’re both trying to unlearn their shitty responses to things and actually understand each other. 

Adam wants to scream that Ronan has fucking name-brand Advil and that he can get rid of his headache quickly, that he doesn’t have to suffer the way Adam did when he used to get stress headaches and not be able to afford the medication to fix it. 

But that would be Adam throwing his own shit at Ronan and that’s not fair. Ronan’s problem has never been access to things. Ronan’s problem is that he thinks he doesn’t deserve things, or distracts himself in dangerous ways, or hurts himself because he thinks he should. 

“What happened?” Adam asks. 

Ronan scowls. “I’m trying to be a considerate fucking boyfriend and let you finish your paper before everything goes to shit, so just fuck off, okay? We can talk later.”

“No,” Adam says. “I’m not putting up with you angry or moping or whatever until I finish, so tell me now.”

“Fuck you,” Ronan says, the way he only does when he has no better defense. 

Adam crosses his arms. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Because you’re going to break up with me!” Ronan snaps. He looks like he regrets it a moment later, but the words are already out. 

Okay. Ronan is feeling vulnerable and lashing out. That makes sense. 

What Adam can’t figure out is why it’s happening now.

“If this is some bullshit about me going back to school-”

“No, it’s not that,” Ronan says. Then, more darkly, “you should leave me.”

Adam huffs. Thinks of Ronan, who brings him breakfast in bed every time Adam comes home to him. Who pays attention to what Adam needs and gives him gifts, but always in ways that don’t push the boundaries Adam has set, even when Ronan doesn’t agree with him. Who dreams brothers and baby mice and magical forests and still thinks he’s nothing good. 

“What?” Adam says, “You had a nightmare or a bad night and you decided to punish yourself by tearing down our relationship?”

“I cheated,” Ronan says.

There’s a heavy silence. Ronan leans against the sink, staring at the ground, looking defeated. 

Adam’s brain feels like static. There’s nothing there, no Adam Parrish, no Cabeswater rustling in his ear, nothing. Adam plays the words back in his head, once, twice, but they still don’t make any more sense.

“You don’t cheat,” Adam says. A truth he knows down to his bones. Ronan doesn’t do casual. Ronan hates cheaters. 

“I don’t lie either,” Ronan snarls. “I’m telling you the truth. I slept with someone else last night.”

Adam stares at Ronan. 

He wishes he had listened to Ronan and gone to write his stupid paper. He wishes he wasn’t here, in this sunlit kitchen, feeling frozen and cold. 

“What?”

Ronan just shrugs at him, like he doesn’t know what else to say. He finally looks up and he looks absolutely miserable, new tears in his eyes. He looks defeated, like he’s just waiting for Adam to start yelling. To dump him. To break his heart. 

Adam thinks that’s really fucking unfair, because Ronan doesn’t get to be heartbroken. Not when he broke Adam’s heart first. 

“I’m sorry,” Ronan croaks. Adam’s never heard so many apologies from him in his life, never mind in one day. “I don’t know how it happened. I was really drunk and really fucking stupid. When I woke up this morning and realized what happened and that I wasn’t with you, I regretted it immediately.”

Adam feels like there are two of him, standing in the same spot in the kitchen. One Adam is burning hot with righteous fury. This is the Adam that kicked a box once in the attic of the church, scaring Blue away. The Adam that wants to scream and rage. The Adam whose anger feels like fire, feels like Ronan’s, feels like his father’s.

The other Adam has gone cold. A little numb, except for the tight ball in the center of his chest. This Adam wants to cut Ronan down with words, use every soft point Ronan has shown him to make him feel as bad as Ronan has just made Adam feel. Wants to make him feel even worse than that. 

Adam hates both versions of himself. 

He stands there, shaking, and forces the fire to melt the ice. 

 Ronan is staring at him, waiting for a reaction, but Adam can’t focus on him yet, needs to get himself under control first. 

It turns out that when the fire and ice consume each other, all that’s left is water. 

Adam blinks away tears. 

He doesn’t know what to do with this information. He knows Ronan, as much as he wishes right now that he didn’t. He knows Ronan hates hookups and casual relationships and one night stands with every fiber of his being. He can’t figure out what would make Ronan go against such a deeply held belief. 

Was it Adam? Was he not good enough? Too cold, too scary, too unknowable?

Or was it the stranger? Did Ronan somehow find someone so alluring that he couldn’t resist?

Was it just because Ronan was drunk? Was he too drunk? Did he know what he was doing enough to make the decision to climb into some guy’s bed?

Adam starts there. Ronan has a tendency to blame himself even for things that aren’t his fault, and Adam needs to figure out if he’s actually guilty before he escalates the fight. 

“How drunk is really drunk?” he asks. 

“I don’t know,” Ronan says, looking surprised by this line of questioning. “A couple beers. Enough to make stupid fucking decisions, I guess.”

“But it was your decision?”

Ronan stares at him for a moment, brow furrowed, before he gets it. He turns red and looks away, ashamed. “Yeah. I was sober enough for that.”

At least that’s one worry out of the way. 

“Okay. Explain this to me then, Lynch, because I don’t fucking get it. You went out last night, with Gansey. To a straight bar, I presume. And you decided to forget about your committed relationship and all your ethical hangups to hook up with some guy you met on a night out?”

Ronan’s face twists. 

“Well?” Adam demands. 

“Jesus, shit, give me a second,” Ronan says. “I’m trying to figure out how to say this without making it worse.”

“How could this get worse?” 

Ronan tips his head back, looks at the ceiling. Like this, his throat is exposed and Adam can see a faint hickey on one side of his neck. One Adam didn’t leave. 

It hits Adam like a punch to the gut. 

Proof. 

This is real. Ronan cheated.

It’s not like Adam really believed Ronan was pulling a long, unfunny prank, but part of him was hoping there would be another explanation. That Ronan was confused about what had happened or was blowing things out of proportion. 

Ronan really cheated.

“It was Gansey,” Ronan says. 

Adam blinks. “Gansey… set you up with a guy? Or egged you on?”

That doesn’t sound like Gansey at all, but it makes more sense than the other option. 

Ronan shakes his head. 

“You slept with Gansey,” Adam says, flat. The only other possible meaning to what Ronan just said. 

“Yeah.”

Adam doesn’t know what he’s feeling. There’s no betrayal, only disbelief.

“Gansey’s straight,” Adam says dumbly. 

Adam would know if Gansey liked men. He used to watch Ronan watch Gansey, back when they first forcibly became part of the same friend group, pulled together by sheer force of Gansey’s determination. Used to see the way Ronan’s eyes tracked over Gansey in the mornings, when Gansey was still sweaty from crew practice. Used to see the way Ronan lit up a little extra when he managed to make Gansey laugh. Used to see glimpses of a better Ronan, a less grief-stricken, less angry boy, in the way Ronan treated Gansey. 

Adam likes the Ronan who tells crass jokes and curses like a sailor and snarks in a way that borders on mean. But he never would have fallen for him if he hadn’t also seen the Ronan who lived underneath, the Ronan who loved so hard that it was killing him. 

The first time Adam had ever seen that softer Ronan, it had been directed at Gansey. 

Ronan had been so obvious, bleeding his crush all over the place. 

But Gansey had never looked back. Adam knew, because he’d been watching Gansey too. Because before Ronan was anyone who mattered, Gansey had been there, fumbling and earnest and unfairly handsome in his stupid rich-boy clothes. 

Ronan huffs. Shrugs. Says, “I don’t know what to tell you, man.”

Now, Adam feels the betrayal. But strangely, he’s more angry at Gansey. 

Gansey, who is supposed to be his friend. Gansey, who looked Adam in the eye and told him not to hurt Ronan, like this wasn’t a relationship that mattered to Adam. Gansey, who then turned around and tried to wreck it himself. 

Gansey, who has a girlfriend. 

“What about Blue?” Adam asks. 

Ronan winces. “Gansey is talking to her now.”

Shit. Blue is scary when she’s mad. And she holds grudges when she knows she’s right. It took her and Adam months to get over the awkwardness of their breakup, and that was a teenage relationship that had never felt quite right. 

What is going to be the fallout of this? Will any of them ever be friends again?

This is what Adam gets for trusting people. Depending on them. Building his life around the belief that they would be there. 

“She’s going to kill him” Adam says. 

“Maybe,” Ronan says. “Maybe not. Gansey says she’s the one who brought up the idea of non-monogamy months ago, but he turned her down. He wanted to stay exclusive or whatever. So. Could go either way.”

Jesus. 

Adam isn’t even sure how his own breakup was going. 

Is it weird that he feels better knowing it was Gansey? He’s angry at Gansey for going through with it, but at least he knows that Ronan didn’t decide to throw away their relationship over some guy he’d met last night. It isn’t because there’s anything wrong with Adam. 

It’s that Gansey is Gansey and Ronan is Ronan, and their relationship has always been deeper than an ordinary friendship.

“Did you kiss him?” Adam asks. “Or did he kiss you?”

Ronan clears his throat, blushing. “He kissed me.”

“Goddamit.” Adam pushes off the door, taking a seat at their kitchen table, across from where Ronan’s breakfast sits. 

“Sit down,” he says. “Your food is getting cold.”

Ronan blinks. “What?”

“Eat,” Adam says. “I need to think. And take your damn Advil. It doesn’t give me any satisfaction to see you in pain.”

Ronan sits tentatively. Adam watches as he takes the Advil then starts on his cold eggs. 

Adam… is not as angry as he should be. 

When he thought Ronan had slept with a random man, he’d been furious. He’d thought he was losing Ronan, or that Ronan was throwing them away because he’d decided Adam wasn’t worth it. 

But this feels different. It doesn’t feel like he has any less of Ronan that he’s always had. 

Adam has always shared Ronan with Gansey. 

Of course he has. Gansey had been there first. Gansey had shaved Ronan’s hair and held him through his grief. Gansey had fought to keep Ronan safe, to keep Ronan happy, to keep Ronan alive. Gansey had believed in Ronan’s goodness when no one else had. 

Adam has seen his boyfriend dream up dozens of epipens, a new one every week, because his love for Gansey is subconscious and ever-present. He’s seen the soft smile Ronan gives only to Gansey, different from the one he reserves only for Adam. He’s known about the nights Ronan and Gansey stayed up, talking over the model of Henrietta, two insomniacs baring themselves in a way they couldn’t by the light of day. He has found them, asleep together on Gansey’s mattress in the middle of Monmouth, on the nights when they hadn’t fallen asleep until sunrise. 

He has known all along that Gansey is important to Ronan. Equally as important as Adam, just in a different way.

He also assumed that Gansey’s heterosexuality was the reason Ronan had never tried to make a move on him. 

But if Gansey had kissed him first… yeah. Adam doesn’t blame him for kissing back. 

He doesn’t see how Ronan could have done anything else. 

That throws out all the questions people usually ask when they’re cheated on. “Why?” and “how could you?” are pretty useless when Adam already understands the answer. 

Adam doesn’t doubt that Ronan loves him. Has never been able to doubt it. Not when Ronan had wooed him so carefully. Ronan had made his intentions clear from the beginning. He’d seen the ugliest parts of Adam and stayed. He’d let Adam see him vulnerable, let Adam see the worst sides of him. 

Adam knows he’s seen parts of Ronan that Gansey has never seen. 

But he also knows Gansey has seen sides of Ronan that he’s never seen. 

Ronan loves them both. Ronan loves them differently. Ronan loves one of them more?

There’s his question. 

“You said I was going to break up with you,” Adam says slowly. Ronan looks up from where he’s poking at the eggs. “Does that mean you’re not breaking up with me?”

Ronan stares at him. “Why the fuck would I break up with you? The fuck did you do wrong?”

“So you’re staying with me because you think it’s the right thing to do,” Adam says. 

“I’m staying with you because I love you,” Ronan says. “I know you’re going to break up with me, and I know it doesn’t look true, but I don’t lie. I love you.”

“More than Gansey?”

Ronan looks pained. He doesn’t answer. 

“Do you love Gansey more than me?” Adam tries. 

Ronan pauses for a long moment. Then he shakes his head. 

Okay. So he doesn’t love Gansey more than Adam. 

But that isn’t the right question. That isn’t really what Adam has been wondering. 

“What I mean is,” Adam says. “If I break up with you, are you going to try to date him?”

Ronan’s head snaps up. “If?”

“Not the question, Lynch,” Adam says. “If I broke up with you, would you date Gansey?”

“I don’t know,” Ronan says. “Maybe. If he wasn’t with Blue. Or if you were already never speaking to me again.”

“And if I was speaking to you?”

Ronan swallows. He’s crying, silent tears running down both cheeks. “If you broke up with me, and we stayed friends, and you wouldn’t be my friend if I dated him, then I wouldn’t. I don’t want to lose you.”

This is a lot of very straightforward honesty from Ronan. Adam almost doesn’t know what to do with it. He’s used to Ronan hiding behind barbs or sarcasm, especially when he’s being honest. 

Maybe this is what Ronan acts like when he feels guilty. Or maybe this is Ronan when he’s scared. 

Adam taps his fingers on the table. “If I didn’t break up with you-“

Ronan perks up, looking hopeful and Adam holds up a hand, “I haven’t decided yet, Lynch. But if I didn’t break up with you, would you regret it?”

“I already regret sleeping with him,” Ronan says.

“No. Would you regret staying with me?”

Ronan looks shocked. “What the fuck? You think after everything I would leave you for him?”

“I think you thought he was straight,” Adam says. 

“Well, yeah,” Ronan says. “But you’re not like, a fucking consolation prize. You know what I thought the first time I saw Gansey? ‘That man has the stupidest shoes I’ve ever seen.’ You know what I thought the first time I saw you?”

Adam shakes him head. 

“Please.”

Adam arches an eyebrow. “Please?”

“I prayed, Adam. I saw you and I just…”

Ronan runs out of words, like he can’t explain everything he had felt in that moment. 

Ronan had seen him and prayed. 

Ronan — who goes to Mass every Sunday, who is reverent about his God, who treats his church like it’s sacrosanct — Ronan had seen Adam and prayed. 

Fuck. 

“So if you were with me, you wouldn’t be thinking about Gansey? Wishing things turned out differently?”

“Never,” Ronan says. He looks so serious that Adam can’t doubt he is speaking the truth. 

“Would you do it again?”

“If I could go back in time-“

“No. This isn’t a hypothetical. I’m asking, if we stay together, will you sleep with Gansey again?”

“No,” Ronan says without hesitation. “I made a mistake. But I don’t want to be a cheater. And I don’t want to cheat on you.”

Adam holds his gaze for a long moment. Ronan looks honest and desperate and all logic in the world dictates that Adam not believe a cheater who is still sitting there wearing hickies from someone else, but God help him, Adam believes him. 

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he decides, making Ronan’s eyes go wide with surprise. “You get a one-time pass because it’s Gansey. But Ronan-“

He makes sure Ronan is looking at him. 

“If you ever cheat on me again, with Gansey or anyone else, we’re done. No more second chances.”

“I won’t need another one,” Ronan swore wildly.

“And I’ll make you regret it,” Adam promises. He meets Ronan’s eyes and lets him see the anger and cruelty he’s capable of. 

Ronan knows how dangerous he is. Ronan has seen the vile nightmares Adam can dream up. Has used them to his benefit, to destroy Greenmantle, and been a little horrified at the darkness in Adam’s brain. 

He chose Adam knowing he was choosing a monster. 

“I would deserve it,” Ronan says, somber understanding and Catholic guilt. 

Adam could never bring himself to hurt Ronan too badly. Part of him hopes Ronan knows that. The other part, the part that’s still smarting at the image of Ronan in Gansey’s bed, hopes Ronan doesn’t know how horribly vulnerable he has made him. 

Adam feels like a declawed cat. He’s never had any problem hurting others to protect himself, but he doesn’t know what to do when the one person he can’t bring himself to hurt is the one causing him pain. 

Is this what Ronan felt like when Adam strangled him?

They look across the breakfast table at each other and Adam wonders if this is what love is. Does it always involve so much guilt and pain and hope and forgiveness? 

Adam remembers thinking that of all the options in the world, Ronan is the most difficult version of any of them. 

He wasn’t wrong. But he doesn’t think he was wrong to choose Ronan either. Despite everything that has happened, he can’t bring himself to regret them.

Ronan makes Adam feel special. Makes him feel daring, makes him feel young, makes him feel awake. 

It’s all Adam has ever wanted — to feel awake when his eyes are open.

“I love you,” Ronan says, like it is the barest and most intrinsic truth of his soul. 

Adam stands, rapping his knuckles on the wooded table. “I’m going to write my paper. Drink plenty of water and go sleep off your hangover. I’m furious with you right now and I don’t want to look at you.”

He turns to leave the kitchen and stops when Ronan calls out, “But we’ll be okay?”

Adam doesn’t turn around. He can’t look at Ronan if he’s going to say this. “We’ll be okay. You’re a fucking asshole. But. I love you too.”

It hurts to say. But it’s nothing but the bitter, hopeful truth. 

-----------

Coming soon to an AO3 near you! But first...

[floreanfortescuetruther]

Hello! Here are my thoughts on Florean’s appearance, feel free to sort out the ones you like or even ignore all of them if they don’t feel right (I’ve seen your Rhydian Morris post so I know this is a bit different)!

* Startlingly green eyes, borderline unnatural. Every new customer has to do a double-take when Florean greets them.

* I imagine him with glasses, my immediate thought is huge round lenses with a thin wire frame, prescription just strong enough that it magnifies his eyes a little at the right angle to make them slightly too big.

* LUSCIOUS lashes that just add to his curious eyes, I’m talking so thick and long that they brush against the lenses of his glasses so he’s constantly adjusting them down his nose.

* Very expressive eyebrows which perfectly amplify sass.

* MOLES. So many moles, he’s a little self-conscious about them but August/Ronan/etc. loves them.

* (Maybe) Curly chestnut hair, very thick to the point of annoyance in the summer heat but gorgeously fluffy and voluminous.

* (Slightly random) Obsessed with mushrooms (or something else) to the point where it’s always present in his outfit: earrings, clothes, hair clip, tattoo (mushroom tattoo that changes types to match the season).

Sorry for rambling so much, I’m very invested now 😂. If it sounds like fun, how would you feel about everyone sharing their version of a particular Picrew maker of how they imagine the boys?

The first part sounded a lot like Harry Potter, I was like HOLD UP 😭 My favourite parts you mentioned are the bunch of moles (I LOVE THAT SM!), and the expressive eyebrows. I’m thinking like kid of thick eyebrows and dark, yk? And the mushroom detail was sooo cuteee <3

I was thinking exactly that, sharing a picrew link so that anyone interested can design who they think “bf”, based on perhaps their favourite or the name suggestions we have, or just based on that he’s an Ollivander yk? Let creativity loose!! I’ll do this tomorrow if I can :)

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

I love to laugh.

DreamWorks revealed what their 9/26/2025 movie is...

It's a movie based on the show GABBY'S DOLLHOUSE, which is - of course - a DreamWorks TV Animation production. So basically, SPIRIT UNTAMED Redux...

I was predicting the seemingly long-gestating RONAN BOYLE from director Fergal Reilly, based on the fantasy book series by Thomas Lennon, was after THE WILD ROBOT as the next DreamWorks not-sequel movie. Then again, this fella predicted it would be this autumn's DreamWorks movie as well. It was announced some time ago, had a director and writer locked... Where is this movie? Has it been cancelled? WILD ROBOT and this project have been announced well after it and are coming out, RONAN BOYLE hasn't been talked about since its initial announcement back in... September of 2020...

So yeah... DreamWorks Animation occasionally doing the TV show-to-movie thing. And releasing them as mainline "DreamWorks Animation" movies, and not under a different banner.

This isn't really a thing the other houses do or have done.

Yeeeeears back, Disney formed Disney Movie Toons Studios to make feature films based on Walt Disney Television Animation's then-hit shows. The first of which was DUCKTALES: THE MOVIE - TREASURE OF THE LOST LAMP, released in summer 1990... To less than stellar box office results, but it probably lived a great second life on home video. That film was largely produced at a French unit that Disney used to have. This was followed by A GOOFY MOVIE in 1995, based on the show GOOF TROOP. That too was largely animated at the French studio, as well as their Australian unit with contributions from the mainline Burbank building. It never counted as part of the Disney Animation "canon", however. And following former chairman (and future DreamWorks founder) Jeffrey Katzenberg's departure in fall 1994, A GOOFY MOVIE was kind of just brushed off. While it did okay at the box office, it was no blockbuster, and would later become a cult smash. Movie Toons eventually became Disneytoon Studios, and their future was making direct-to-video sequels to classic Disney animated films with an occasional outlier, such as the THREE MUSKETEERS movie with Mickey and the gang.

Whereas DreamWorks? Both this movie and 2021's SPIRIT UNTAMED - whose TV series was based on a DreamWorks Animation film anyways - were under the mainline DreamWorks Animation banner, and are theatrical pictures.

I'm sure this news is going over well with certain folks, lol. Weird-ass adults who think every DreamWorks movie absolutely *has* to be the sword-wielding cat adventure...

I just find it fascinating myself, because this isn't usually a thing American animation powerhouses do. Disney made it very clear what was part of the major animated movies "canon" and what wasn't, as if an animated movie continuation of an animated TV series was somehow less than? (Fittingly, A GOOFY MOVIE is held up in high esteem by some, even above many of the mainline WDAS-made movies. It was given a rather mixed reception upon its original release.)

But also, Pixar, Illumination, etc. don't really have TV animation divisions per se. Sometimes a film spawns a series that's made elsewhere, such as HOTEL TRANSYLVANIA, but that's about it. Sony Animation did do that AGENT KING show and YOUNG LOVE recently, so they do some TV animation stuff alongside the heavies - it's all under "Sony Pictures Animation" anyhow. With Disney, their TV animation division is separate, ditto DreamWorks.

No Disney TV Animation show since the 2000s got the theatrical movie treatment, the last one in question was TEACHER'S PET in 2004. Those were straight up Disney Television Animation productions, not Disneytoon. DreamWorks is a lot more fluid, as we recently saw what was essentially a pilot film for a MEGAMIND TV series debut exclusively on streaming, while SPIRIT UNTAMED and GABBY'S DOLLHOUSE got full-on DreamWorks movie treatment. It's a little weird, yeah, but it's how they've been rolling.

I'd imagine, like SPIRIT UNTAMED, this will be animated elsewhere. Not Sony Imageworks, probably a Mikros or a Jellyfish-type studio. It's a preschool show, so I'd imagine DreamWorks isn't going to want to sink too too much into this.

Anyways, the mystery's over. I'm still wondering what's going on with RONAN BOYLE. 2025 now houses, for DreamWorks, a non-sequel (DOG MAN), a sequel (THE BAD GUYS 2), and a TV series adaptation (GABBY'S DOLLHOUSE)... Doesn't affect me either way, I'm not the audience for GABBY'S DOLLHOUSE lol.

2026 is all but confirmed to be the year of SHREK 5, now it's the original in question that I'm curious about.

[friendofcars]

another one:

"His head was a tumble of burning cars and ancient Camaro wheels and the deconstruction of everything Blue had said to him."

hi again!

my guess: this is another tricky one for me. i really do think it's the dream thieves this time given the camaro wheels and the burning cars. i don't think it's from ronan's POV because he doesn't have any significant conversations of emotional depth with blue in this book (that i can recall) but i am genuinely unsure whether this is adam or gansey. gansey would make sense because he witnessed the burning cars at the substance party and adam didn't, and this could be a gansey chapter after he and blue go driving in the camaro (the and now we never speak of this again chapter, which is blue's pov) BUT gansey has relatively few POV chapters in this book and this could be after adam becomes the magician and has scried so he might have some sort of subconscious access to scenes of burning cars even if he didn't witness them in real time and the word "deconstruction" is very adam (in ch 8 of this book he "takes apart" his anger) especially given the break-up-esque chapter he has with blue right before persephone takes him under her wing. final answer: adam POV towards the end of the dream thieves. i don't know which chapter. possibly when he's preparing himself before scrying for the first time and potentially while he's out where cabeswater should be and trying to figure out how to fix the ley line.

the answer: i am wrong! it is indeed gansey's pov, the dream thieves, chapter 31 when he and adam are en route in the helicopter to the d.c. event. the burning cars should have led me to the answer!

my thoughts: love this line as an insight into gansey's ruminating tendencies. there's a lot of movement in this quote (and i'm pretty sure there's a line near the beginning of the book about gansey hating having to "stand still" while cabeswater is missing) given the tumbling of thoughts, the imagery of a car on fire or a possibly rolling wheel or a breaking down of a previous conversation. we know that gansey is prone to replaying moments of his life over and over. here, it's at the cost of supporting adam (he's trying to be sympathetic to adam's fear of flying but all he can do is sort out his thoughts about ronan [and probably kavinsky by extension, in terms of ronan's safety but maybe also the thrill of being gansey on fire in that substance party setting?], the quest for glendower, and his relationship with blue).

i think there's an undercurrent of desire here (as there is throughout this book. it's summer for a reason), given the burning car juxtaposed with the wheel they found during the infamous lake scene with orla in orange and blue. but the car isn't driving, it's burning. the wheel is not attached to a car. maybe my initial assessment of movement was misguided and he's tumbling through thoughts of things he fears are stagnating? even though later in the book he's saddened by the thought of having to leave henrietta (and blue)? and ronan! a final thought- the wheel as a nod to thought cycles and gansey "spinning his wheels" trying to make sense of it all but not getting anywhere. the glendower quest is stalled at this rate due to cabeswater's absence. and whenever we get a helicopter chapter, i imagine the pov character gaining some sort of new perspective on their life, a literal representation of a new figurative vantage point re: their motivations, relationships, etc.

[samtastic]

Ronan Lynch / Dreams

CAROUSEL - 5 Seconds of Summer / The Raven Cycle / Dreaming - System of a Down / Dreamer Trilogy / Dream - Imagine Dragons

[denimbex1986]

'I’m genuinely curious about and a little afraid of what is going to happen to a certain kind of film lover when All of Us Strangers comes out in late December. If the reaction to the press tour so far is any indication, expect mass fainting spells and/or riots. There are a bunch of reasons I have pegged this movie—a gay romance from director Andrew Haigh—to bring the Letterboxd crowd, me included, to our knees, but the chief one is that it stars not one but two certified internet darlings: Andrew Scott, best known as Fleabag’s Hot Priest, and Paul Mescal, who rocketed to fame via Normal People early on in the pandemic and has been an object of ardent fan obsession ever since.

Despite the movie’s English director and setting, the other thing Scott and Mescal have in common is that they’re Irish, which you’d think would make their coming together to maximize their joint slay a shoo-in for Irish movie moment of the year. But it turns out competition for that title is pretty stiff in 2023. In November alone, audiences saw Barry Keoghan make his mark on an English country estate in Saltburn and Michael Fassbender scoot through Paris in The Killer, the latter’s first major acting job in three years. This is after a summer absolutely dominated by Cork’s own Cillian Murphy, who played a Jewish American scientist in Oppenheimer with so much conviction that it matters not a whit that no one in history has ever looked more Irish. All of this came in what is still the same year that The Banshees of Inisherin, starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, and Keoghan, was nominated for nine Academy Awards, and Mescal was up for best actor for Aftersun.

They didn’t actually win any of those Oscars, but that doesn’t change a growing body of evidence proving that these days, some of the buzziest stars hail from the Emerald Isle. Ask any film fan whom they’re excited about, and you’re likely to get an earful of Mescal, Keoghan, Saoirse Ronan, and so on. I’m not the first to point this out—in August, Elle declared that it was “hot Irish guy” summer. But summer has turned into fall, and the hot Irish guys (and gals) remain with us. During awards season, Mashable made a guide to the Irish “it” boys of the Oscars. Several months later, they’re still “it.” So, what’s the craic with this Irish invasion?

“Irish people tend to be very good-looking and charming,” Rachel Connolly, a novelist and critic who has written about Irish culture’s place in the world, told me via email. “That would have to have something to do with it I’d imagine.”

True, but why are they so good-looking and charming, and so many of them at once? When I asked Ruth Barton, a critic and film studies professor at Trinity College Dublin, what unites performers like Mescal, Scott, and Keoghan, she posited that they all embody “a kind of soft masculinity.”

This wasn’t always the case. In earlier eras of Hollywood, Irishmen played priests and cops, not romantic leads. “Irish actors and Irish identity, particularly Irish masculinity, got sexier around the turn of the century,” Barton said. “The Troubles ended in 1998. You get this new image of Ireland coming through, with the Celtic Tiger, with the boy bands, with the chick lit, with U2, with Bono and all that kind of thing, which changes the image of the Irish male in particular.”

Barton cited Chris O’Dowd’s performance in Bridesmaids—as a cop, which is a typical Irish role, but a sexy one—as a key turning point that paved the way for the ascendance of the Irishman as soulful and sexy male lead. This also then makes room for weirder actors like Keoghan to become fan favorites. “He’s the underdog,” Barton said of Keoghan in Banshees. “He’s not good-looking. He’s not tall. He’s none of those things. But he’s really heartfelt. That’s what he brings to these roles.” (And some people would beg to differ about the good-looking part, I imagine.)

It helps that Ireland is also in the midst of a “huge literary moment,” Barton said. “Sally Rooney is only one of the generation of incredible young women writers coming through.” Rooney, the 32-year-old author of Normal People, is known for portraying “[her] generation’s anomie and discontent” in a way that can also be “viscerally sexy,” Barton said.

And again, this is still kind of a new thing! “Ireland used to be this repressed Roman Catholic country,” Barton said. “We abandoned Catholicism, and then we really let rip.”

Saoirse Ronan notwithstanding, it’s true that the viral “internet boyfriend” phenomenon that so benefits people like Mescal and Scott doesn’t quite have a female equivalent. Still, Irish actresses have been able to take advantage of the spotlight too: Kerry Condon received praise and award nominations for Banshees, Sharon Horgan’s Bad Sisters featured five plum roles for Irish actresses in 2022, with a second season on the way, and we’re still not that far out from the end of Derry Girls, the Netflix show set in Northern Ireland in the ’90s. Irish actress Nicola Coughlan parlayed her role in that show into work on Bridgerton—she will be the lead of an upcoming season—as well as a spot in one of 2023’s most enviable ensembles, Greta Gerwig’s Barbie. (She fittingly played Diplomat Barbie.) Otherwise, Barton cited Jessie Buckley in particular, of last year’s Women Talking, as an Irish actress on the rise.

In a larger sense, for millennials and Gen Z audiences who care about such things, Ireland’s politics seem refreshingly unproblematic: “Ireland stands for nothing on the world stage,” Barton said. “We’re not an aggressor. We’re not a colonizer. The Troubles are over. We actually live in one of a few countries with a fairly stable democracy. We don’t have crazy leaders. It’s a benign kind of identity, Irishness.” In other words, the Irish have all the charm Americans find in a British accent, maybe more—Barton cited a certain richness to “Hiberno-English”—with none of the baggage of the Brits.

Ireland’s history, of course, has trickle-down effects on the national character. According to Michael Patrick Gillespie, a professor at Florida International University who has studied Irish film, Ireland’s past is infused into the whole country’s sense of humor. “They have a great sense of irony,” he said. “I mean, they were an English colony for 750 years. I think that would certainly give anyone a bit of cynicism. There’s a great deal of value placed on wit and on repartee and being able to think on your feet, to think quickly and to deal with ambiguity.”

ADVERTISEMENT That may account partly for why such a small country—it has a population of 5 million—continues to leave such an outsize cultural impression. “There’s a tremendous creative vitality in Ireland, and that fosters a wide range of artistic projects,” Gillespie said. “It also builds up a callus and a stamina because there’s just not a lot of money. There’s never money in the film industry. There’s not a lot to support Irish films. And so to make it, to be successful, you really have to endure.”

Things may be improving on the money front: In February, the Hollywood Reporter published a piece on why the Irish film industry lately seems to be punching above its weight. Some Irish filmmakers pointed to specific funds that have been set up to encourage homegrown talent, leading to projects like Normal People and The Quiet Girl, which was a Best International Feature Film nominee at this year’s Oscars. Barton, meanwhile, pointed out that Ireland also offers quite a bit of state-subsidized theater, so much so that there’s now a fairly well-established trajectory for young actors to follow: After making a name for themselves in theater, they usually move into Irish TV, then parlay that into work elsewhere. When Hollywood productions cast Irish actors, “they’re getting pretty accomplished actors coming in who know what to do, who speak English, and who don’t have to deal with the kind of cultural adjustment either because, you know, we can see American TV here,” Barton said.

And it’s also easier now than ever before to work in Hollywood but stay Irish. “Before, you had to really move to America to work, whereas now people go backwards and forwards very, very easily,” Barton said. “Somebody like Cillian Murphy is very, very insistent that this is where he lives, this is where his children are being brought up, they are being brought up with Irish values, not with American values, etc.” For some American fans, this only makes this class of actors more swoon-worthy for how “not Hollywood” they are.

Still, Gillespie worries that American audiences are at risk of over-romanticizing the simple, quaint Irish life. “I think that Americans have a very naïve sense of Ireland,” he said, a sense that is sometimes amplified by movies like Banshees, in Gillespie’s view. “There’s almost a patronizing view of the Irish that that I think causes many Americans to underestimate their complexity.” In other words, Ireland and Irish actors are more than a vision of a sensitive man who reads poetry in bars or, say, really loves his donkey. “I think American audiences are more than capable of seeing the complexity that is there in Irish films and appreciating the complexities that Irish actors can convey,” Gillespie added. Something to keep in mind while you’re watching Mescal and Scott smooch next month at a theater near you.'

[msclaritea]

Paul Mescal, Andrew Scott: Irish actors are having a real breakthrough moment.

"I’m genuinely curious about and a little afraid of what is going to happen to a certain kind of film lover when All of Us Strangers comes out in late December. If the reaction to the press tour so far is any indication, expect mass fainting spells and/or riots. There are a bunch of reasons I have pegged this movie—a gay romance from director Andrew Haigh—to bring the Letterboxd crowd, me included, to our knees, but the chief one is that it stars not one but two certified internet darlings: Andrew Scott, best known as Fleabag’s Hot Priest, and Paul Mescal, who rocketed to fame via Normal People early on in the pandemic and has been an object of ardent fan obsession ever since.

Despite the movie’s English director and setting, the other thing Scott and Mescal have in common is that they’re Irish, which you’d think would make their coming together to maximize their joint slay a shoo-in for Irish movie moment of the year. But it turns out competition for that title is pretty stiff in 2023. In November alone, audiences saw Barry Keoghan make his mark on an English country estate in Saltburn and Michael Fassbender scoot through Paris in The Killer, the latter’s first major acting job in three years. This is after a summer absolutely dominated by Cork’s own Cillian Murphy, who played a Jewish American scientist in Oppenheimer with so much conviction that it matters not a whit that no one in history has ever looked more Irish. All of this came in what is still the same year that The Banshees of Inisherin, starring Colin Farrell, Brendan Gleeson, and Keoghan, was nominated for nine Academy Awards, and Mescal was up for best actor for Aftersun.

They didn’t actually win any of those Oscars, but that doesn’t change a growing body of evidence proving that these days, some of the buzziest stars hail from the Emerald Isle. Ask any film fan whom they’re excited about, and you’re likely to get an earful of Mescal, Keoghan, Saoirse Ronan, and so on. I’m not the first to point this out—in August, Elle declared that it was “hot Irish guy” summer. But summer has turned into fall, and the hot Irish guys (and gals) remain with us. During awards season, Mashable made a guide to the Irish “it” boys of the Oscars. Several months later, they’re still “it.” So, what’s the craic with this Irish invasion?

“Irish people tend to be very good-looking and charming,” Rachel Connolly, a novelist and critic who has written about Irish culture’s place in the world, told me via email. “That would have to have something to do with it I’d imagine.”

True, but why are they so good-looking and charming, and so many of them at once? When I asked Ruth Barton, a critic and film studies professor at Trinity College Dublin, what unites performers like Mescal, Scott, and Keoghan, she posited that they all embody “a kind of soft masculinity.”

Add Slate to the Insider Hollywood List.

"Soft Masculinity"? Isn't that the same crap that Majors was pushing?

[cheeeryos]

Perspective Shift for Sunbeams Find You 🫣🙏

ooh fun 😈 thank you!! here's a little adam pov from that time he and a dream version of himself tagteamed ronan

Ever since he and Cabeswater reached an understanding, Adam has been reveling in a newfound power. Now that he knows what Cabeswater wants—or at least, he knows how to know what it wants—he feels an intoxicating kind of freedom; there are new doors opening to him, new avenues to explore. The world seems suddenly full of possibility, so much wider than it had felt even a month ago.

Tonight feels like a night where anything can happen. He’s finished his homework early, miraculously; he doesn’t have to go to the warehouse or the factory or the garage. Normally he’d be hanging out with Ronan, but he hasn’t seen Ronan all day. To pass the time, he turns on the small lamp precariously placed on the plastic bin he uses as a desk and gazes into it until starbursts fill his eyes.

He’s not sure how long it takes before he catches the smell of summer air, hears the buzzing of August insects. It’s Cabeswater at peak lushness, thick and dripping with heat. The air squeezes his lungs and presses down on his skin, raising goosebumps.

Ronan is there.

Ronan is there with...him. With Adam.

He blinks the stars from his eyes but the scene doesn’t fade. Adam—another Adam, that is, an entirely different Adam—is sucking at Ronan’s neck. One of his—his!—hands is wandering up underneath Ronan’s shirt, pressing against his stomach, his ribs, tracing the indents like Adam has imagined doing himself in his most private moments. Ronan’s eyes are squeezed shut like he’s in pain, but Adam can see that he’s hard in his jeans.

Looks like Adam isn’t the only one who dreams about this.

[unusual fic asks]

[iammistressofmyfate]

All these kink prompts are so good, it's hard to decide. Can I get uhhhh 31 please 🥺🥺

Ohhhh!! Thank you, friend! This is a good one!

31. Outdoor Sex

[Kink Prompts]

Ronan lifted the hat he had been using to cover his face as he lay out on a towel in the sun next to the water hole/pond that he and Adam had dug in one of the back fields of the Barns.

He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the brightness of the day, the summer sun beating down on him, and saw Adam swimming in the muddy water. Ronan sat up on his elbows, transfixed.

This was not the first time that Ronan had seen Adam swimming but there was something more about watching him, when Ronan wasn't an active participant.

Adam looked elegant and boyish, his wet hair brushed back against his head, his skin sun-kissed and golden. He disappeared under the water and emerged, pushing his hair back, and taking long, easy strokes.

Ronan wasn't sure how long he watched him, Adam emerging from the water, soaking wet. Ronan watched rivulets of water run down the plains of his chest, his swim trunks hanging lower on his hips, revealing more of the golden trail of hair that led from his navel down to the base of his cock.

Adam smiled as he walked up to meet Ronan, his face knowing, as if he'd been aware that Ronan had been watching him. Adam tapped his wet foot against Ronan's, hands on his hips.

"You're awake," he said.

Ronan blinked up at him. "C'mere."

Adam grinned, his straight, white teeth practically gleaming. He was like some sort of summer nymph, magical and uncanny and stunning. He straddled Ronan's hips, his skin cool and wet from the water, making Ronan's skin goose bump but Ronan didn't care.

He tugged Adam down, hands on his face, kissing Adam deeply. Adam sighed, opening his mouth for Ronan, his wet hands stroking over the planes of Ronan's chest, down his abs, already working on pulling Ronan's bathing suit open.

Ronan worked on getting Adam's off, which was more challenging because they were wet, clinging to Adam, but Ronan managed, getting his mouth around Adam's cock.

"Jesus, Ronan," Adam moaned, Ronan's hands pressed to the back of his thighs. Adam rocked his hips into Ronan's mouth, making soft, breathy noises, and Ronan moaned around him.

"Shit," Adam hissed and Ronan could imagine his face, brows furrowed, biting his bottom lip. "Stop, Ronan."

Ronan did, pulling off of Adam, breathing heavily, Adam's dick wet against Ronan's cheek. Adam leaned over, grabbing the bottle of lube he'd brought. He uncapped it, slicking his fingers, and Ronan watched hungrily.

Adam's fingers stroked over his cock and Ronan flopped his head backwards, mouth falling open at the exquisite touch. "Fuck."

Adam stroked him a little, making sure he was lubed, and also to tease, before he guided Ronan into him, sitting down slowly onto Ronan's cock.

They hadn't had sex that long ago but Ronan was impressed and turned on by Adam's lack of need for prep. Ronan wrapped his hands around Adam's hips, Adam leaning over him.

He fucked himself hard on Ronan's dick, jostling both of them, surprising Ronan with the intensity of it. He didn't mind it but usually Adam liked things more drawn out, where Ronan liked hard and fast.

"Fuck, Ronan, god you feel so good," Adam groaned, head tilting back.

Ronan was completely enamored, amazed. "You're beautiful."

Adam smiled, eyes closed, and Ronan reached down to jerk him off. He watched the way Adam's expression changed. He could tell he was getting close, just from the way his body tensed, his expression tight, the noises he made more needy and loud.

"C'mon, Adam," Ronan encouraged. "Come for me."

"Oh," Adam moaned, breathless, muscles fluttering and tightening around Ronan, cum covering Ronan's hand and stomach. Adam's body sagged a little, though he fucked himself on Ronan's cock through his orgasm until Ronan came, too.

He emptied himself into the warm clutch of Adam's body, seeing stars. Adam collapsed on top of him, face pressed to Ronan's neck. They both sounded like they'd been running for miles.

Ronan turned his head, kissing Adam's cheek, nosing at him tenderly. "Fucking Christ that was good," he muttered.

Adam hummed, pressing a kiss to Ronan's sun warmed skin. "It was. Always is with you."

Ronan smiled, his heart constricting in his chest. He'd never be over this. He'd never be over sharing this level of intimacy with Adam, with knowing that Adam trusted him with this...that he could trust Adam with it, too.

It felt enormous and special and Ronan loved Adam so deeply it hurt.

Adam's hand cupped Ronan's face and he pressed another kiss to Ronan's neck.

"Tamquam."

"Alter idem."