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siempre-bucky · 3 years

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Secret Valentine

Dympna Devers x Reader

Summary: You were forbidden to see him after your father heard about the brutality of the Devers Family. That didn't stop Dympna from creating a romantic Valentine's date for the two of you.

wc: 1.6k (I went a lil overboard)

A/N: surpriseeeee shortaayyyy I wrote this late last night. I'm in my valentines day era and my dympna era now...whoops. based on the lovely conversations I had with @mothdruid & @waspswidows. thanks for simping over him with me! ♡

With a pained grunt, you sat the final box of your dad's inventory in the back room of the small store, "Shit," you cursed as you leaned against the cold back door, your eyes glancing at the red streamers. A small smile adorned your lips as you caught your breath. Your mom insisted on decorating for Valentine's Day.

Straightening your spine, you went to walk back to the front of the store, until a repeating tapping sound pricked your ears, "The hell?" you mumble as you walked towards the window.

Pulling back the curtain you saw the blond boy with a hand full of stones standing in the alleyway. Your small smile grew, excitedly opening the window, "What are you doing here?" You whisper in case your dad could hear you.

Dympna Devers. The boy you fell head over heels for stood there in front of you with a smirk. "Can you get away, sunshine?" he asked, his normally cocky voice was laced with nervousness.

A small chill went through you. You weren't sure if it was from the fact you were forbidden to see the Devers boy or that he was asking you to go away with him in broad daylight. Your rendezvous happened at night when he could get away from his uncles, whisking you away to the safe parts of town where no one knew him.

"My dad, D," you sighed and looked behind you out of habit.

"It's only for an hour or two. He won't know, I promise." Biting your lip, you finally nod, quickly shutting the window.

Minutes later after a long detailed excuse you ran out of the back door, tugging on your jacket. It was actually Dympna's coat that was draped across your shoulders, he gave it to you one cold night while stargazing on the outskirts of town. "M'lady," he greeted as you collided with his chest.

Your warmth soothed the cold iron gate of his heart, allowing you in with a simple hug, your breath tickling the side of his neck. "Where are we going?" you asked as you pulled away.

Dympna took a step back, holding his hand out for you, "Somewhere your old man won't find us. Let's get out of here, yeah?"

There was no hesitation as you took his hand, letting him lead you to the bright red car your relationship grew in. You loved the nights in the passenger seat as he drove you miles, hours away from the harsh town. You got to see the real man in the driver's seat, his laugh as pure as the dawn of a new morning. He wasn't like them with their lifeless eyes and failing livers and hands that were forever stained with crimson.

"Put this on," he said over the stereo and roar of the engine, tossing a blindfold into your lap. You looked down from the greenery to the black bandana in your lap. The thumping of your heart was now almost as loud as the bass from the song.

A small wave of panic flowed through you. What if the blond in the driver's seat was taking you to your death? No, no. He liked you, he was different. Dympna wanted to protect you from his family. Betrayal sat back in the deepest depths of your mind, but it was still there. It didn't help that Dympna looked nervous, his fingers tapping the steering wheel and his leg bouncing wildly.

He quickly looked over, "Put it on, love."

Your lips parted, eyebrows raised in fear "Dym-"

"Do you trust me?" His voice was soft and kind, instantly pulling you out of your fears. Nodding, you tied the bandana around your eyes after taking in a deep inhale.

You didn't know how long it had been before the car came to an abrupt stop. Squirming in your seat as he uttered a quick apology, getting out of the car. That sudden wave crashed into again as Dympna opened your door, gently pulling you out by the arm. The thoughts inside your head were running wild as he lead you blindly.

It's ok, it's ok, you thought to yourself as you stumbled along the rocky path. You heard his instructions, nervously following them. He guided you up a few steps and inside a building. When his arm left you, the panic really set in, you might be met with a firing squad for all you know.

"Alright," he sighed, his voice a small distance away, "you can take it off now."

Shakingly your hands rose to the blindfold. Your worst fears subsided when you saw the familiar abandoned train car. Dympna stood in the middle, his fingers nervously toying with the sleeves of his brown sweater. Next to him on the ground was the most beautiful setup. A clear vase full of your favorite flowers sat in the middle of plates and bowls of your favorite foods, a red and white checkered blanket protecting it all from the dusty floor.

"Y-you did all this for me?" You asked him in shock, your smile widening along with his.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N," he said, a blush rising to his cheeks.

You couldn't walk to him fast enough, placing your hands on his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his soft lips. His rough hands that felt way too much found their way to your lower back underneath the coat, his fingertips sparking a fire on your skin. "It's going to get cold," you giggle as you part.

Taking your places on the blanket you two finally got to relax. He opened up about his days that were spent apart from you, doing his best to keep the subject off the family business. It was second nature and it would slip, you winced in between sips of beer at the story of him beating someone up at the bar.

"Did you make any of this?" you asked, quickly changing the subject.

Dympna shook his head and ran his hand through his hair, "No," he laughed nervously, "Ehm, I didn't need all the girls askin' questions. I picked it all up this morning. Went to that diner you like so much."

You smiled sweetly and picked up one of the plastic containers, "Smells good though, little fawn," you giggled. He smiled at the nickname you had for him and threw his head back bashfully.

After you two polished off whatever was left in the tins, Dympna laid his head in your lap as you took a sprig of baby's breath and broke it into pieces to place in parts of his hair. The golden light from the sun coming through the graffitied window illuminated his face, your free hand grazing over the tattoo by his eye and the small scar below it. The silence was comfortable, it always was with him.

His blue eyes looked up to you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. "Would you like your present?" he asked with that tinge of nerves back in his voice. You nodded eagerly and wiggled in your seat.

Dympna quickly sat up facing you, crossing his legs. He inhaled deeply as he stuck his hand inside his jacket pocket, pulling out a little red box. His eyes followed you as you took it into your palm.

Inside the little box was a silver necklace with a small circle silver pendant, "Oh, Dympna," you cooed as you looked at the engraved image. The outline of a fawn with a sun behind it sat in the center of the pendant.

He rose to his knees and moved behind you, taking the necklace out of the box. "Since you can't wear my name or anythin'... I thought this would be nice. I mean, if you want."

You nodded and leaned back slightly, allowing him to place the necklace around your neck. "It's perfect," you whisper.

After you heard the clasp close, you rose to your feet, pulling your boyfriend up with you. "There's something I've been meanin' to tell you," he managed. He felt like his throat was about to close up.

Tilting your head, you took his hand into yours, "You alright?"

"Y/N I... I. Fuck!" he shouted, ripping his hand out of yours, walking away in frustration. You flinched at the sudden outburst, taking a step back.

"It's ok," you reassured him as you watched him pace, "we've got time."

"I wanted this to be perfect, I didn't wanna fuck up like this," he seethed.

You shook your head and slowly started to approach him. "It is perfect, little fawn."

He turned to you with red cheeks, anger etched on his face. "I'm tryin' to tell you how I feel about you and I stutter like a fuckin' idiot. I've never said it before. Not like this." Your head snapped up, your brain piecing together what words wanted to escape his lips.

"Dympna," you said calmly, "It's just us, I wanna hear it."

He unclenched his jaw and let you take his hands in yours again. He was a pile of nerves as he looked at you. You were pure, the best thing that had ever happened to him and this shithole of a town. You were a light that guided him from the darkness of his family. You were his sun. Dympna swallowed hard, lips parted to speak, "I'm in love with you, Y/N."

"I'm in love with you, Dympna. I think I have been since we met," you scrunched your nose and leaned in. He met you halfway, his lips gliding over yours delicately. He detangled one of his hands and weaved his fingers into your hair, drawing you in closer. Your hands trailed up his clothed arms to place them on his neck. The cold of the necklace had finally disappeared, another source of warmth now on your skin.

#dympna devers #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers imagine #calm with horses #the shadow of violence #barry keoghan

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slut4dympna · 3 years

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i’m obsessed with dympna ever since watching calm with horses and i love both of your works for him 🥰

how about headcannons for him being soft for his girl only? like the contrast between devers family dympna and alone on a sunday morning or alone in the car dympna?

i cannot stop think about him !!!

honestly so soft for dymp being all tough around his family and then all mushy with his s/o, he just needs to be taken care of </3

꒰ ͜͡➸ tags/warnings: pretty much exclusively fluff, cursing, mention of a shirtless male/taking off clothes but its not in a sexual context

- we all know his usual personality is playful but very rough around the edges

- the devers have a rep to uphold and god knows dympna won't be the one to let them down in that aspect

- but things just get too much for him sometimes, he gets overwhelmed

- you would just bring out a softness in him that he never knew existed

- he feels this need to protect you, and sure, that brings out his more aggressive side when it concerns other people

- but majority of the time it just means he melts around you

- long hard days end in your arms

- you wait up for him in bed a lot, since he's usually out late on jobs or down the pub, drinking and playing pool

- and when he gets home, and he sees you sat up in your shared bed, covers resting on your waist, cozy in your pjs, maybe reading a book or watching something quietly on the telly... hes just gone

- he strips to his boxers and just climbs under the covers to snuggle you

- and when you laugh and stop whatever you were doing to give him a little head pat or a kiss on the cheek, he just mumbles how much he loves you and settles down for bed

- its those quiet little moments that truly let you know that hes yours

- because you'll see him being tough and angry with the rest of the family, or with other people in the village, etc. but he is only ever soft and pliant and open and sweet with you

- i just have this IMAGE in my head okay

- try and picture this with me

- the comment in the film abt dymp going and getting his little dye job done ?? (which honestly was quite funny. got a little laugh outta me i have to admit)

- you definitely do that for him.

- blonde dympna is your creation and you stand by it wholeheartedly

- here's the image

- dymp is sat on the bathroom floor, he's shirtless with a towel around his shoulder bc u insisted because duh bleach is fucking messy

- there's a mirror on the floor in front of you guys so he can see what you're doing just for reassurance

- not that he doesnt trust u.... hes just very protective of his hair lmao

- anyway you're sat like on the toilet seat behind him and hes sort of tucked into your legs

- youve got the gloves on and a towel over your lap too

- hes got his head slightly tipped back and your just smoothing the bleach down, and hes making these little noises that are absolutely ridiculous and you cant hold your laughs in

- i imagine him catching glances of you in the mirror as you're oh so focused on what you're doing

- and he just thinks abt how lucky he is to have you

- and you guys lock the door when you do this so that its like your little time to just joke around and be together

- you make many jokes about charging him a salon fee for your hard work and though he knows you're joking there is definitely some sort of present waiting for you on your bed the next day from him

- fuck and dont even get me started on like sunday mornings

- its like just you guys and his sisters at home ?

- and dympna makes breakfast for all of you

- you come down and eat together, and then they go down their own thing, and you and dymp go back to bed with your cups of tea and a cheeky biscuit

- and you cuddle, maybe you read to him, or watch something together

- and you don't talk about work, etc bc its just not important in those moments

- all in all he is so soft for you and you only <33

#dympna devers #dympna devers x you #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers x reader #barry keoghan #barry keoghan x you #barry keoghan imagine #barry keoghan x reader

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mothdruid · 3 years

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behave.

pairing: Dympna Devers x Female!Reader

summary: A job had gone wrong earlier, putting Dympna in a bad mood. Later when the two of you go out to the club, you flirt with another person. Dympna gets jealous and pulls you into the bathroom for a rough romp.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: 18+, smut, minors dni, cream pure, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex

a/n: this is my first time writing a full fic for Dympna! gonna tag @waspswidows and @siempre-bucky cause they helped me a lot with this

The thrum of the music coursed through your body, feeling it deep in your chest. You leaned against the bar while a man spoke to you. Showers of compliments came from the man, but it was all a show. You didn’t really care about what he thought, there was only one thing on your mind. You looked back across the bar, locking eyes with the one you wanted the attention of.

Dympna.

The man had been ignoring you all night, too caught up in trying to forget about a job gone wrong earlier. The lights of the club added a red hue to his blonde hair, but his blue eyes stayed the same. He was watching you, making sure you didn’t do anything too out of hand. But that was what you wanted.

“Ya hear me?” The other man asked.

“Yea, sorry. I just got caught up in my thoughts.”

“Thoughts? How about we go somewhere, maybe I can clear them for you?”

You smiled fakely and tossed your head back, rolling it to the side to catch Dympna’s stare one last time. You winked at him before turning back to the man. Carefully running your hand down his arm.

“I’d like that.” You heard a little bit of noise behind you, signaling you were getting just what you wanted. The man’s attention pulled away from you as you heard Dympna stroll up. Dympna’s hand grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from the man’s arm.

“Te’ fuck you doin’?”

Dympna was fuming when he had finally reached you. “Getting your fuckin’ attention.” You bit back at him. Dympna smiled wickedly when he heard your words. He cocked his head to the side as he watched you a bit longer. He started pulling you away from the bar, the both of you forgetting about the other man at the bar. You could feel excitement flowing through your veins as Dympna’s grip didn’t let up.

Dympna pushed through the door to the bathroom. Your back collided with the wall of the bathroom as soon as the door was closed. “This what ya wanted?” Dympna pressed you hard into the wall, his forearm pressing into your collarbones and shoulders. All you could do was flash a smile, wanting to provoke him more.

It wasn’t often when Dympna was like this, but you couldn’t help but love when he got like this. The seriousness in his facial features, the way he would manhandle you. It made your cunt quiver. You went to squeeze your thighs together but Dympna shoved his thigh between them. “I’m not gonna be nice.”

The words were a threat, telling you to behave for him. His hands moved up to your face, holding you in place. You looked into his blue eyes, craving for him to crash your lips together. One of his hands moved to the side of your neck. “You gonna behave now?” You nodded as he smashed his lips into yours.

Teeth clashed as he pressed himself against you, the feeling of his hardening cock becoming more apparent. His lips felt like fire against yours, hot and suffocating. The hand at the back of your neck tightened, making you push into the kiss even more. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating the inside of your mouth quickly.

The hand on your face moved down to your hip, pulling you impossibly close. Both of your hips fell into a rhythm, rolling and moving in harmony. The thrum of the music was more distant as the two of you continued. His hand moved from your neck to your chest, groping at your breasts. The thought of being caught flashed pushed to the front of your mind.

“D… the door..” Dympna smiled against your neck as he listened to you.

“Little change of attitude huh?” Dympna glanced over at the door while he pressed his thigh up into your core.

“No, I jus-” Dympna cut you off with his lips. The hand on your hip snaked around to the small of your back. He pulled back from you and pushed you towards one of the stalls. You stumbled into the stall as Dympna pulled the door shut, locking it before turning around.

“There, better?”

You pulled Dympna into you, whining once his lips connected with your again. He pushed you against the wall in the stall, thigh reconnecting with your core. Dympna’s hands connected with your hips, rocking them against his thigh as his lips battled with yours. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, his thigh and your hips rocking while your tongues swirled. You pulled back from Dympna, gripping the front of his button down.

“Dympna, I need more.” You whined.

“More?” Dympna snaked a hand to the front of your pants, rubbing hard against your core. His hand stopped to unbutton your pants, snaking down the front of your pants right after. His fingers moved between your folds, finding your clit immediately. Dympna let out a snicker as he noticed how wet you were. He brought his hand up to your face, resting on your cheek.

“Look at me.”

You brought your gaze to Dympna’s, moaning while he rubbed circles on your clit. Your orgasm was approaching and that’s why Dympna wanted you to look at him. Dympna had a thing for watching your face while you came. It was one of his favorite things about you, the way your face contorted while he was giving you so much pleasure.

His breath was hot on your face as he watched you. The door to the bathroom opened, making you pause, whipping your head to the stall door. Dympna smiled and kept up with his circles on your clit. Your hands moved to the wrist connected to the hand in your pants. Your eyes stared into his own as you silently begged for him to let up. “What? Don’t wanna be caught?”

You leaned against him as your orgasm rippled through you, your hips shaking in his hand. Dympna groaned as he watched you fall apart on his fingers. The both of you heard the bathroom door open again. Dympna nipped at the nape of your neck while he pulled his hand from your pants. “Turn around, I have ta’ fuck ya now.”

Dympna’s hands grabbed your hips and flipped you around, your front being pushed against the wall. Dympna put a hand on the wall near your face, the other gripping your hip. He rubbed his crotch into your ass, watching as your back arched and pushed back into him. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ dirty tonight.”

“All for you D. Only for you Dympna.”

“It’s Mr. Devers.”

Dympna leaned forward and nipped at your neck. He grabbed the waistband of your pants and panties, pushing them down around your knees. The sound of Dympna’s belt being undone filled the air. Dympna pulled his cock out, slapping it lightly against your ass a little bit. “Please Mr. Devers.”

“Don’ worry, I got ya’ babe.” Dympna lined up with you and pressed inside of you. You moaned at the feeling of him stretching you open. He bottomed out inside of you, stilling while his hand came up to your shoulder. “You’re so fuckin’ warm.” Dympna pulled out slowly before pressing back into you. You arched your back as the head of his cock ran over the sensitive spot inside of you.

“Fuck, right there.” You moaned as his hips snapped forward, a brutal pace being set. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear, his moans and groans filling your brain. You arch your back and lean back into Dympna, his hand tightening on your shoulder. He looked down to watch your plump ass bounce against his groin. His other hand kneaded at your ass while the hand on your shoulder shifted to your neck.

His grip on your neck tightened as he pulled you back, making your back arch harder. “So fuckin’ filthy for me.” His thrusts became more and more messy as the both of your orgasms approached. Fire lit across your skin as your orgams took over. Your cunt clenched around Dympna’s cock, your muscles holding him like a vice grip. Dympna moaned and thrusted into you one last time before spilling his cum inside of you. He rolled his head against your shoulder, arms wrapping around your midsection and pulling your back into his chest.

“Don’t do that again.” He whispered while kissing your shoulder. Dympna pulled out of you, the both of you moaning at the loss of contact. Dympna tucked himself back in his pants then quickly grabbed some toilet paper, holding it to your entrance while his cum slowly leaked out of you. Once almost all of it was on the toilet paper he tossed it in the toilet, flushing it down. You pulled your pants up and pressed a kiss to the cross tattoo near his eye.

“Let’s get goin’.” Dympna smiled as he unlocked the stall door ushering you out to the club. Instead of returning to the bar the two of you left, heading off to his car. The rest of the night you two stayed in the back of his car by the seaside.

#dympna devers #dympna #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers smut #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers x female reader #dympna devers x f!reader

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causticcauses · 3 years

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Only Stop at Exits pt. 2

Part Two -> One, Three, Four

Pairing: Dympna Devers x (gender neutral) Reader

Summary: You wanted out of your rough life employed to the Devers family. Building a life with Dympna just wasn't possible when it meant dragging yourself through shit to be with him. When things came to a head, the only question was what you would have to leave behind.

Fic Warnings: Angst, mention of past death, drug use/reference, drug dealing, abuse reference, swearing.

Part 2 Warnings: Moderately graphic violence, drinking.

A/N: So I know I said part two would probs involve smut, but I’m an indecisive and long winded idiot so we’re not quite there yet. However, part three definitely will, so, like, hang in there? Lol. Besides that, thanks a ton for the interest, I didn’t expect to get so many notes on part one.

@omgeternal

The weeks passed in a blur of grey disturbed by frequent spikes of red and black anxiety. You trotted through deliveries with impatient mindlessness, eager to be done each task but with little to do after the fact. You spent most of your time between jobs restless, searching up openings across the country or even further, looking up flight prices, apartment listings, costs of living in towns you'd never heard of. It didn't matter how much information you found, there was always something missing, some fact you hadn't discovered.

It felt like your hands were empty even when you were holding something. Like you were reaching for something that just... wasn't there.

You still saw Dympna. Frequently, in fact. He was, in the loosest sense of the word, your boss. You picked up deliveries from him, or from one of the people you uncharitably but not untruthfully called his lackeys while he looked on.

The thing was – he wasn't different. His grin was sharp as ever, his laugh quick to come. He draped himself over furniture like gravity was too much to deal with during parties, and the parties happened like they always did. Every weekend, clockwork. You still got the invites to the Devers’ home, and you went because if he wanted to act like nothing happened, you couldn't let that challenge go.

It didn't stop your eyes from finding him every fucking minute, though.

A time or two or ten, he caught you looking and grinned, his chin high, gaze evaluating. Mostly you tried to hollow out your expression and pretend to look through him, but you couldn't control the flush of heat through your neck and face. Let him think you were embarrassed – and to judge by his smirk, he did – but really you were pissed.

So very, very pissed.

It didn't help that he didn't do anything else to make you mad. You weren't suddenly given the shittiest, out of the way jobs along country roads with potholes so deep they were probably secret portals into hell. You didn’t have to meet up with the clients that made Paudi look like a calm, reasonable man. Those kinds of deliveries had ended when you started dating Dympna, nepotism at its finest, and they didn't start back up. You'd been afraid – a fear that shamed you both for the mistrust and the pathetic dependency – that he might dock your pay, or some other asshole move like that, but your money came on time, fair as fair could be.

You'd even wondered – fleetingly, in bursts of near-panic – if he might tell his uncles about your wavering loyalty, but in more rational moments, you knew that was totally unjust to him. What were the scars on his back, if not symbols of how loyal he could be when push came to shove?

He could be petty, even spiteful, but not like that. Not to people he loved.

And somehow, you thought you might still be in that category. Even personally, Dympna wasn't cold. He didn't avoid you. The opposite, actually. He drew you into conversation despite your attempts to be unfriendly, and if the discussions never went anywhere against the stubborn coolness of your resentment, were just casual flings of words that you fended off with thinly veiled disrespect, the fact that he bothered made you think...

You didn't know what to think. Hell, you didn't even know what you wanted to think. He’d made it clear, hadn’t he? And hadn’t you? Wasn’t it all over between the two of you? It wasn’t what you wanted, but wasn’t it what you needed?

You sure as hell weren’t fucking, and... you supposed that was a change. Since you’d left, Dympna hadn’t tried to touch you at all. No casually putting his hand on your hip, drawing you closer as he spoke to someone else. No teasing pinches to make you yelp and smack him reprovingly, or soft scratches at the back of your scalp, soothing in his idle but constant presence. He hadn’t kissed you – and you hadn’t kissed him, and, honest only to yourself, you wanted to. God, you wanted to. Your body felt empty, hollow, begging to be filled by something you tried to convince yourself was a poison.

You half expected him to make moves on someone else, half hoped for it, if only to have another reason to be angry, to say good riddance to attractive garbage.

But he didn't. Though as usual he was the center of attention, he was no friskier with anyone than he ever was.

(Which was still pretty flirty, but that'd been something you accepted about him early on. Man just had a mouth for banter and bedroom eyes.)

He was at the center of something now, raised voices and words flattened by the loud music into something you couldn’t quite understand. But from where you stood, leaning on the kitchen counter and chatting with two of his sisters, you could see Dympna and a few buddies in the living room, gesturing aggressively, getting in each others’ faces. Some kind of dick measuring contest, you guessed.

From what you could tell Dympna was playing both sides, egging on one guy and then the next. The usual shit disturbing. He was in a silver sleeveless shirt, with flashy black designs swirled across it, and it practically screamed amidst the darker colours the rest of the fellas in his circle were wearing. The thought made you pull at the rim of your white top, deliberately plain just to show how little of a shit you gave.

“...Hun?” It slowly dawned on you that that was Christina, calling for the attention that you’d let wander.

You shook your head quickly, heat rising in your cheeks, and said, “Sorry, sorry. I missed that. You were saying...?”

The twins were observing you with open shrewdness. Under their identical eyes, you shifted your weight, brought your drink up and took a long swallow. Liquid courage wasn’t the best kind, but it was the only kind you had to ward off their looks.

The sisters were fraternal, but their eyes were spitting images of each other, pale blue with a touch of almost-silver near the irises that gave them an unworldliness that sometimes seemed to see too much. Dympna was always teasing them that they’d been swapped at birth by the fair folk, were faeries in disguise, and he got them each an iron ingot for their eighteenth birthday. They pretended to hate his taunting, but you’d been by their room on the way to Dympna’s, and the little grey bars were on the dresser, pride of place in the middle.

That said, they were a little… protective… of their older bro, and you were somewhat hoping they wouldn’t pursue where your attention had gone. Maybe just let it go.

The Devers were never very good at letting things go, though.

Fatima looked by you, into the living room, and her expression became knowing. She was the quieter of the twins, and you probably got on best with her of all the sisters, but she also liked to tease in a way that was a little more cutting than was comfortable. They’d made it clear they were aware of the drift in your relationship with Dympna, but never talked about it to you directly. Seemed like that was about to change.

“You’ll never plough a field by turning it over in your mind, y’know,” she observed with a small smile, surely quoting some questionable wisdom from her mother June.

Sometimes the best defense was a good offense. “I already ploughed that field,” you said, trying to shock her into dropping it.

Unfortunately, “that field” was Dympna and he’d been ploughed many a time, too much so for his sisters to be embarrassed by it. Christina laughed, light and quick. “Aye, and seems you’re letting it lie fallow, hmm?”

“I’m sure someone else will get to seeding,” was your reply, and you were a little taken aback by the tartness in your voice.

Abruptly impatient with the metaphor, Christina snorted. “Way he’s been pure moping about, it’s no sure thing.”

Automatically you glanced back, over to Dympna... who was staring your way. Your eyes met and it was the usual smirk, a slight nod, and this time you peeled your gaze away through sheer force of will, trying to ignore the bloom of hopeful affection in your chest. You fell back on sarcasm. “Oh, yeah, looks like he’s in bits. Real torn up.”

Christina rolled her eyes, and Fatima replied, “Like he’d show it here, with all youse lot around. Trust us, he’s been unbearable. Like a kicked pup. You let him down hard, yeah?”

“I didn’t let–” you began heatedly, only for the protest to die down into a kinda unconvincing mumble. You supposed outside observers wouldn’t exactly describe your last conversation with Dympna as letting him down gentle. But you hadn’t even let him down! It was him, with his pig-headed, Devers’ stubbornness, that let your down. Refusing to at least talk through leaving – what did that give you to work with? Nothing. That’s what.

And yet… Pure moping about. Fatima didn’t seem like she was pulling one on you, no sly smile to let you in on the joke. Was he really that bothered by the thought of you gone?

Another look, but this time Dympna wasn’t angled towards you. He was still talking in the group, and if anything, all the voices over there had grown louder, more aggressive, clearer over the pulsing music. These days, the parties were wilder, and they had more people that came to ‘em, too. The house was packed tonight, and though there was a certain respect given to the Devers, even that space was being challenged; you were practically rubbing elbows with another group camped in the kitchen.

The people who came nowadays seemed more apt to spill into fights, with less harmless fun. Judging by the noise coming from the living room, sounded like things were heading that way tonight. Not something Dympna – or the Devers ladies – couldn’t handle, but it was another bit of friction sliding rough under your skin.

Fatima and Christina were still waiting for your response, unbothered by the tension over yonder, but you were saved from their expectant stares by an unlikely hero. Needles, staggering into you, stepping back with a squint like he didn’t quite know who you were before he brightened.

“Ohhhh!” he exclaimed, thick and drawn out. “It’s our mate! It’s our…” The slight man trailed off, looked around like he was expecting someone to be standing next to him, and took a few seconds to recuperate from the absence. When he did, he started going off about the beaver trade in Canada, which was not quite thrilling enough to keep the sisters hanging around.

With vague excuses and, on Fatima’s part, a wicked grin at you that Needles totally missed, they cut their losses and shifted to another area of the house. Leaving you alone with Needles.

Joke was on them, though, because Needles was the better company. At least he wasn’t trying to accuse you of dumping Dympna, just waxing eloquent now about something called a North American jackalope.

Besides, you’d always felt a bit bad for the man. He lived in an addled, sometimes barely functional haze, and when Arm had been around, he’d had something of a protector in the big boxer. Nobody picked on Needles while Arm or Dympna were around. Now, though… Well, Dympna had picked up new friends – new enforcers – who were far less patient than Arm had ever been, and Dympna himself was…

Busy was a kind way to put it. Distracted. You didn’t like to think he’d basically left Needles on the curb in his relentless push to grow the business.

At least Needles was still invited to these parties. You and he chatted for awhile longer, a conversation that looped and sagged and darted on incomprehensible paths. It was mostly amusing to try to follow his leaps of logic, and a few other people joined the convo as time went on. You drank, maybe more heavily than you should, but it felt good to turn your mind away from a certain someone and focus on other people, other thoughts. In turn, Needles drifted away, and you chatted with those left, mostly deliverers like yourself, just here for a good time.

You were starting to argue about the best pub in town – there were only two – when shouting from the living room caught your attention. Your attention, and pretty much everyone else’s, too. The sudden crashing and swearing that followed grabbed anyone else who’d missed the yelling.

As automatic as breathing, there was a surge to the living room. Everyone liked a good fight. Quick enough to grab a spot inside the room, you didn’t have to jostle much to stay near the front of the bodies. Dympna’s reputation – and hell, your own – guaranteed that much. Although once there, you sort of regretted your quick rush. As in, stomach plummeting regret, along with nauseating concern.

It was Dympna on the floor next to the overturned table. That much was obvious, silver shirt and blond head all. The fact he was on top of the guy – and you’d be hard pressed to say who it was, maybe Rory or that new guy, Dare – made it even easier to tell. Whoever it was, they weren’t down for long. With a heave, they threw Dympna off, and Dympna, slighter than his opponent, hit into one of the low side tables with a grunt and an awkward roll. You winced at the sound of a lamp on the table falling to the floor with a sharp crack.

There was a reproving buzz from the onlookers – bad form to start actually smashing furniture, you were supposed to take it outside before then – but no one moved to intervene. That would be even worse manners.

Your fingers were clenched into fists so hard it was producing an ache, dull in your knuckles, and you leaned forward as Dympna found his knees in time to get kicked in the stomach. He groaned and folded into the foot and for a second you thought, stricken, that he was –

Whatever you thought, it was stupid, because he just used the second delay to find a better position to launch himself at the other man’s legs, and yeah, it was Dare, and Dympna brought him down again. There was a much louder buzz, calls of “Get ‘em, D!” and jeers that rang in the numbness of your ears.

They wrestled for longer, piling into the chairs and tables that’d already received a beating, but as the initial rush of concern began to drain from your eyes, you started to see clearer. No stranger to fights yourself, you noticed what you hadn’t at first. Dympna wasn’t losing. Not even close. Hell, if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was drawing it out. Letting Dare get just enough space to get himself free, and then jumping all over him.

Except that couldn’t be. Dympna didn’t even like fighting. There was a reason he’d first towed Arm around, why he had big new friends now. Sure, he could fight, and did when it came to it, but for Dympna the only good fight was the one he’d won before he first punched someone. When the outcome wasn’t sure, he finished it as quick as he could, and if that meant being ruthless, he did that easy enough.

So what the hell was this now?

Eventually, tired or just sick of it, Dympna got himself back on top of Dare, hit him a few more times, the hollow thud of his fists loud in the subdued murmur of the crowd. There was more than one experienced fighter in this room, and they’d seen what you had. This wasn’t just a good scrape between friends. By this point, Dare could barely cover his face, and one of the last punches plastered his nose across his face in a bloom of blood that left him choking and gurgling as Dympna heaved himself off.

There was a strangled attempt at a cheer as he straightened, but Dympna’s flat expression didn’t encourage praise, and that was off, too. He thrived off of admiration like a flower off sunlight, so why wasn’t he swaggering? Especially after a fight like that?

You didn’t have time to puzzle it out. In a slightly strained voice, Dympna called, “Get this scut outta my fuckin’ house.”

Two of his boys jumped to it with a will, laying hands on the barely conscious Dare. In the meantime, a few members of the crowd wandered away, while the rest sort of milled, watching uneasily. Sure, fights broke out more often than they used to at the Devers house, but those were a box and a jab and a wrestle, not a beating. No one – least of all you – understood what happened. People parted, watching two of the men carry Dare out.

You only had eyes for Dympna, and so you saw him bend down, grimacing as he picked up a bottle from the ground. A moment later, he straightened and then pressed his fingers to his side, then pulled them away. Checking something. Maybe the thick smear of blood covering them.

Your inhale was loud, fighting with the music that slogged on in callous indifference to the fight, and his eyes snapped to you. His eyebrows knitted together in a fierce expression you couldn’t put a name to, and he immediately straightened, rubbed his hand off on his jeans. There was a cut on his cheek, but that couldn’t account for the amount of red that’d been on his fingers. With tension vibrating through your muscles, a quivering agony of indecision, you held yourself still. Had – had he been stabbed? Did he need help? Should you–

“The gobshite tried to fuckin’ stab me,” Dympna said, and he’d recovered some of his aplomb, some of his performance. The loyal skins he’d gathered responded to the tone; there was a more energetic gasp, a wave of outraged muttering, some calls of concern. You didn’t stab a man in his own home when he’d invited you in, and you sure as hell didn’t try it on a Devers. They were probably thinking Dare was lucky Dympna hadn’t sicced his lackeys on him.

But why the lie? Why “tried” when you’d just seen that Dare had been more than a little successful?

The piercing weight of his blue eyes was on you, daring you to say anything. He gestured casually with his hand, the one holding the bottle, which, you now realized, was broken. “Eejit pup didn’t manage nothin’, but we don’t take kindly to that shite in the Devers house, do we?” He finally looked around, including everyone present in his demand, and received an immediate response. More outrage, denial, denunciation.

He’d always been good at controlling people, influencing how they viewed him. He was working overtime now. When he threw the bottle to the ground, where it shattered further, his whole frame tightened, a kind of shudder that went through his body, but only once. “Sorry fellas and fine things, we’ll be gettin’ this mess cleared. Get on outta the livin’ room now, we’ll just take a moment. Stay if’n you like, though, night’s young yet. Sláinte!”

Immediately, like his words were some kind of benediction, the tension snapped. People relaxed, laughed, repeated the toast with much downing of the forgotten drinks in their hands. Then, as directed, they began to leave the room, giving the Devers space to clean up.

It was physically difficult to tear your eyes away from him. He looked – overwhelming. That was all you could think. It was like he was meant to be there, right at the center of this house, right at the center of admiration and control. Someone had tried to stab him and he’d brushed it off like... like...

There was movement behind him, and you automatically focused on it. It was Charlie. She must have been in the room when the fight started, been trapped or even unwilling to leave as her brother tussled. She was pressed up against the far wall, and her face was ashen, her breath coming in quick, panting bursts. What that animal Fannigan had done to her had changed the child, but you hadn’t seen her this bad in at least a year. She looked like she was about to break down.

You took a few steps her way before you realized it was the wrong move. Charlie wouldn’t be comforted by you. She’d not really warmed to you, just like she hadn’t warmed to most newcomers since it happened. You pivoted around. Finding Lisa wasn’t hard; she was at Dympna’s side, as were the other two sisters, speaking in low voices and with gentle hands on his shoulders. The matriarch June stood nearby, her glare warning away anyone who might wanna crowd Dympna and get a little favour by seeming concerned. It struck you how... apart... they seemed from the rest. The small family was a little island in the mess that was the living room.

June's glare didn't exactly diminish as you approached. You had literally no idea what she knew about you and Dympna, but she was one of the more intimidating people you'd met, and even before, you'd never been close. Dympna wasn't quite the type to introduce a lover to his mam, and while his stories painted a woman who could be warm as a home hearth and just as welcoming, you hadn't seen it. But your urgency must have been apparent, because after a moment she gave a brusque nod, grudging permission to approach.

"S'nothing, just a little..." Dympna was saying quietly as you came up, but he trailed away at your approach. You expected him to straighten, maybe brush off his sisters' consoling hands, just to appear as nonchalant as always, but his mouth was pinched, his face pale, and he did nothing of the sort. Your gaze flickered down, to his side, to see if you could catch sight of more blood, or maybe a tear in the fabric of the shirt, but Dympna shifted, leaned more into Fatima so the area was covered.

Whatever. You weren't there for him.

Except that he was ironically the only reason you were here at all.

You banished the thought from your mind with a frown. Speaking to Fatima's concerned head tilt, you explained, "It's Charlie." You jutted your chin in the teen's direction. She hadn't moved. "She's in a bad way."

They all stiffened. Lisa swore under her breath and instantly broke off from the Devers huddle. She beelined straight for her younger sister. It was a little amazing to see how much the hard woman softened as soon as she got to Charlie. Careful hands and careful words, soothing the lines from the girl's face, easing her from her cowering position against the wall.

All the other Devers turned to watch, anxiety obvious in their intent focus and sudden silence. Including Dympna, his hands drumming against his thighs, abruptly a shifting, squirming mess, like his body was begging him to go comfort Charlie. One particularly energetic movement, a stretch to his toes to try to keep better track of his sisters, had the air suddenly hissing out of his lungs as he winced.

"Stop playing the maggot," June snapped.

Anyone else taking that tone would have received a glare – at the least – but Dympna just flashed his mother a flighty, apologetic smile that was gone about as quick as it came. He did stop fidgeting as much, though.

Before too long, Lisa led Charlie over, one arm protectively holding her close. “Think we’re gonna get some air, yeah?” the older sister said. “Place is starting to smell manky. You should tell your friends to shower, D."

The joke fell more than a little flat, but Dympna, his eyes on Charlie, managed a grin. "Then you'd wanna take 'em all for a ride, and we can't have that, can we? Nothin'd get done."

Lisa scoffed. "Most your friends, clean as angels and I still wouldn't touch 'em." Her eyes – blue, like the rest of the Devers clan, but darker, like her mother's – slid to you and then away and you couldn't tell if that included you in the "most friends" category, or put you out of it. A moment later Lisa continued. "Anyways, the Lord ain't sending showers atop their heads tonight, so we'll step outside. C'mon, Charlie."

Though she gave a gentle tug to her younger sister, Charlie resisted. She was staring at Dympna. "Are you...?" she whispered, couldn't seem to find the breath to finish the question.

Nonetheless, Dympna's smile became livelier, and he waved his hand. "Sure, sure, I'm fine. Right as a pint and then some, yeah."

"Look at him," Christina piped up. "Picks a fight with a man double his size and walks away suckin’ diesel. What a tool."

When Dympna protested, you took the opportunity to add, "Think his hair got a little outta place, though. He should fight a comb next." Dympna's reaction to that was more subdued, and he seemed taken aback by your willingness to throw out the friendly insult. Wasn't really for him, though.

"Worrying his mam, too, and do he care? Not a wit!" June added fiercely, and that was a signal, with the rest piling on Dympna with glee.

You had seen that before, the way they ganged up on him, and Dympna loved it. Parrying the comments with wordplay of his own, clever and sharp but never enough to cut. The Devers family could make an Olympic sport out of bickering, the amount of time they put into it, but it was rarely hurtful. They knew each other well enough to load their guns with nothing more than blanks, all sound and no piercing.

Today's performance, though, was just that. They were none of them fully invested in the codding, faltered several times, only to have the gap filled in by someone else. It was a family effort, working with the sole goal of reassuring Charlie. A few times one of the women took a quick look at Dympna, and Fatima kept a hand on his elbow, lightly squeezing. They were worried about him, masking it for Charlie's sake, and you admired them for it even as it made you feel... strange. Outside.

Fatima looked your way more than once, inviting you to take part, and a spot had opened up for you in the circle, so you were nominally part of the conversation. Dympna kept glancing at you, quick, spastic scans like the sight of you was burning him, and you didn't have the easy grace to jump back into the banter after your first comment. A few times some smart-ass remarks rose to your lips, but just looking at Dympna, at the way he had by now casually clamped his arm into his side, was enough to make the urge die.

He looked so... good... like this. So warm and secure, surrounded by his family. And meanwhile, the living room was trashed, glass and ceramics crunched underfoot. Dympna had been hurt, and Dare was probably bubbling out his consciousness through blood in a bush across the way. If the de-facto bouncers had even bothered to carry him that far from the house.

If you could cut this moment – this familial warmth and security – out of this place and put it elsewhere, somewhere clean, like trimming out a photo from a magazine for a scrapbook page, would the grimy light of the Devers’ house follow? Would the pungent scent of weed still drift through the air as the acrid taste of beer clung to your tongue? Would blood forever stain the picture? Or in a different place could they – could he – be something different? Something more?

You yearned – ached – to know the answer. And you were reminded, once again, horribly, why you needed to leave so badly.

He wasn't what he could be, and neither were you, and if you didn't leave, nothing would change.

With that stark realization a claustrophobic pressure weighing on your lungs, you retreated. As Lisa finally got Charlie – a little lighter, a little more relaxed – to agree to go outside for a bit, and Christina said she would come, too, you joined the small exodus for the door.

"Goin' so soon?" Fatima called from where she'd remained at Dympna's side, and you waved at her, feeling guilty. Trying to ignore the fact that Dympna's expression was even tighter than before.

"Yeah, stuff to do in the morning."

"Run over Dare on your way out," she said, voice sweet and eyes anything but. You thought if she wasn't so concerned about Dympna she might have gone out and given him a few extra kicks herself.

With a chuckle that was genuinely amused, you raised your hands. "No car tonight. Someone else'll have to do the honours."

She muttered something, and with the music playing it was a little hard to be sure, but you kinda thought she said, "Oh, someone will."

You almost pitied Dare if he tried to show up on the Devers’ doorstep again. Almost. Of course, the last glimpse you snuck of him, Dympna was sagging into Fatima, June sweeping in to take a closer look, and you couldn’t think of a good enough reason to attack him like that, let alone in his own home. Part of you was demanding that you stay, talk to Dympna, try to figure out what happened and see if you could help, but you killed it relentlessly. He was in good hands. He’d be fine. He was always fine.

Until he wasn’t.

You weren’t going to stay around for that moment.

Free at last from the stifling heat of the party, you were quick to set your feet to the pavement, almost running to get away. You didn't see Dare outside; had he managed to stagger off, or was he in one of the alleys between the ramshackle apartment buildings? It still didn’t make sense that he’d attack Dympna like that in the first place. He was new to the crew. One of the extra hands they’d brought in as things got busier. So where’d he get off thinking fighting with the leader, let alone stabbing him, was okay?

And Dympna’s reaction, too. Why not just take it outside? Or let one of his guys beat the hell out of Dare?

You chewed out the thoughts on your cheek, but couldn’t get anywhere with them.

The streets were quiet as you walked, taking your time, breathing in the cool night air against the weight on your chest. It wasn’t a long walk to the house you were living in with Mrs. Byrne, your widowed landlady. The alcohol was a soft and steady buzz in your veins and to be honest you kinda wished you'd drank more. Somehow staggering home to pass out in a drunken stupor seemed more appealing than the lonely night facing you now.

In a house nearby, a dog barked, the sound deep and booming, and you flinched automatically before hustling on. The owner of the house was not particularly friendly. Behind you, someone screamed at the dog to shut up – to no effect – and you picked up your pace, not eager to have them come outside and accuse you of skulking. It'd happened before. You could fisticuff with the best of them but that didn't mean you wanted some old man going after you in a nightie that showed off his knobby knees.

You were concentrating so hard on the racket in the house that at first you failed to realize that a car was pulling up behind you. It wasn't until several steps later, when the vehicle followed your hurried footsteps, keeping idle pace, that you became aware of it.

The spike of fear didn't last more than a half a second, the time it took for your eyes to settle on a familiar, obnoxiously red paint job. A scowl twisted your mouth, and you turned away, kept going without acknowledging the driver.

The car followed, and you heard the sound of a window cranking down. "Oi, stall a sec why doncha?"

You kept walking. There was something distinctly unfair about Dympna deciding he wanted to talk after the revelation that you'd had tonight, a nail in the coffin of you staying in this town.

Dympna revved the engine for a second, the loud sound an outburst of frustration, before pulling more even with you. You couldn't help but glance over, and he was half leaned out the window, one hand on the wheel, barely looking at the road. He'd be a right menace to old ladies and kids chasing balls if it were daytime.

"Don't be like that, darlin'. I just wanna talk."

"Don't you have a stab wound to look after?" you replied tartly, needing the emotional space such a taunt gave you.

He chuckled at that, though the sound quickly died. "Me mam took a look, says it’s nothing. Patched me up good." June would probably know a bad wound when she saw it – you'd heard tell of the kinds of scrapes Dympna's father got into, not to mention Dympna himself – and you hated that you could feel some of your tension easing. You didn't want to be relieved. That just made it harder.

So, you kept walking. Dympna's voice was a unique brand of wheedling when he said, "C'mere to me. Just for a bit."

"I will, yeah," was your sarcastic response, and he snorted. Hard to tell if the sound was amusement or exasperation, but it didn't get you anywhere, either of you. You weren't gonna listen to him. What more was there to say?

You went for a while longer, the car a softly rumbling companion. Determined to keep your eyes straight ahead, you didn't peek at Dympna, and it was maddening to try to imagine what he was thinking. He kept following you, so clearly he hadn't given up, and you had a feeling, equal parts frustration, affection, and trepidation, that he was in one of his moods. The one where he wouldn't let go easy.

Your premonition proved correct.

With a suddenness that made you jump, he honked the horn. It was a sound that shattered the mellow silence that had settled over you, loud and ugly, and as you whipped around to glare at him you almost tripped and fell flat on your face. A wild windmill was enough to save your balance but not your pride, and that added more than a pinch of heat to your scowl.

He met your expression with a placid one of his own. An eyebrow raised, like he couldn't possibly imagine what had made you start.

Berating him abruptly seemed like purposefully stepping on an open beartrap. You shut your mouth, jaw clenched, turned, and struck out abruptly across the road in front of the car. He didn't run you over, but he had to hit the breaks pretty hard to avoid it. The grinding screech almost made you grin.

The colourful swearing that followed as you gained the sidewalk on the other side of the street was just icing on the cake.

Unfortunately, you were forgetting – or at least desperately ignoring – an important fact. Dympna was the eldest brother of a whole gaggle of sisters. There was nothing he didn't know about persistence and aggravation.

Another honk. You didn't balk this time, but it was a close thing. Another one, and then another, closely following on the heels of the last. And then it was near unending, some short honks, others long blaring wails. There was just enough space between a few of them to lull you into the belief – well, hope – that he might be done, but no. You felt like you were being followed down the street by a whole-ass parade. Any second now someone'd be throwing open their doors or calling the guard on you.

Plus, by this point you were getting near your home. That wasn't good. And he knew that full well, too. You couldn’t arrive at Mrs. Byrne’s with this production behind you. The widow was a good sort, in her way, but she also had traditional notions about not being woken up at two in the morning. At best you’d be getting an earful for the next few weeks, and at worst... hell, the noise Dympna was making, she might just throw you out.

At last, with a surge of aggravation that he was actually making you stoop to his level, you halted. Glared some more across the street. “Will you feck off?” you demanded, in a voice that was probably a bit ridiculously hushed given the cacophony that was still echoing in your ears and probably the ears of all the neighbours, too.

Dympna slowed the car to a stop, leaned across the seat to speak to you. It was all infuriatingly casual. Course, if the guard came – or worse, Mrs. Byrne – it wouldn’t be him who’d be getting jumped over. “Sure thing, darlin’. Just as soon as you hop in.”

Teeth grinding, you couldn’t even manage to say anything, just shook your head in sharp denial. Dympna shrugged, a grin curling his lips like a cat that spotted some cream, and his hand hovered over the steering wheel. “Don’t you fucking dare,” you choked out, and he paused, head cocked in a mockery of confusion.

“You about to come with, then?”

“Dympna...”

For a moment his smirk only grew, but after a second more of regarding you, it fell away, and so did his hand from its threatening position over the wheel. “I need to talk to ya,” he said, simply, but that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t...

“Please?”

It wasn’t that Dympna didn’t ever say please. He did. He wasn’t some savage. But the way he said it now, so lost, like he was reaching out for something he wasn’t sure was even there, it had your breath slipping out as your heart seized. It just sounded too damn much like you’d been feeling the last several weeks.

Before you’d even consciously made the decision, you were walking across the street. There were plenty of logical reasons to say yes. It would get him off your back. You wouldn’t risk getting thrown out by Mrs. Byrne. You could convince him you’d meant what you said, maybe tell him about the jobs you’d already applied for elsewhere and the lodgings you were thinking of trying to get. You could wrap it all in a neat little package and actually say goodbye. Totally logical.

Your fingers curled around the door handle, and you knew, meeting the blue intensity of his gaze, that logic didn’t have anything to do with this.

#dympna devers #calm with horses #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers imagine #barry keoghan #the shadow of violence #mine

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velvet-paradox · 3 years

Text

Traveler (Part Two)

Fandom: Calm With Horses/ The Shadow of Violence

Pairing: Dympna Devers x Female reader

Summary: your career as a photographer leads you to Ireland and an unsuspecting meeting with a well known family in town.

Length: Long

Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, tobacco use, strong language, explicit content, phone sex, mutual masterbation, slight oral (f receiving), P in V (unprotected; wrap it up dummy), cream pie, heavily detailed smut.

Tagging: @synnersaint @druigbarnes01 @littleplutoisaplanet @brookisbi @yoursopretty15 @marauderswhoree @azurewitch @autumnrose929 @badbitsh13 @123crossiant123 @mrsmooneyshouse @milklungsblog @sniwstrom @pjnkhoe @dreadwolfxoxo @mrsilovevillains @Unbetitelt @amberrubens @naamloos @xkaoruu @purebillskarsgardtrash @dainty cupcake @barryswifey @mrsniallhoran505 @heylolitahey13 @emilie1993 @enchantingeggslimepeanut @oh-yeah-i-exist @greekktragedyy @celtic-orgin @alivnysstuff @itsthestutterforme @shityoudidntaskfor @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @chainsawvigilante @mothdruid @sarahreader134 @omgeternal

ENJOY!!!

You didn't hear from the Irishman for a few days, and honestly you were on a hunt of your own. You'd overheard some kids mention the same name of one of the rock sites you were interested in, one that was already scrawled down on your handy notepad. You asked them about it as they pointed up the hill from where you had gotten breakfast, not the same diner where you heard the gossip, a but specific breakfast joint that faced the water.

You plopped in the coordinates into your phone and set off.

It was breathtaking, the whole island was but this place was magical as if you might actually see fairies or elves, maybe an albino mythical animal. Maybe this was a place where unicorns did exist. You got out your camera and snapped quite a few ethereal pictures, these would fetch you good price back home for sure.

The misty mountains behind you made this place feel like a dream and in a sense it was. You sat on the trunk of your rental, just basking in the beautiful sight around you, a lone sheep trotted across the road and down a little hill just out of view, it's fluffy beige body dipping out of sight as your phone rang.

You smiled and answered. "Hi."

"How do, Yankee girl? gettin' into trouble are ya'?" Dympna joked through the phone.

"I'm doing just fine, what are you up to?"

"Jus' wonderin' the same, what are you doin' in a few hours? say around two..."

You checked your watch, it was just a little past noon. "I'll be back down the hill by then, why?"

"Why don't you let me pick you up, I'll show ya' the beach, yeah? the sun'll be nice an' high by then."

"Sure."

"Yeah?" he sounded excited and you felt the same, you weren't expecting this trip to turn out this way, but were thrilled nonetheless. "You'll go out wit' me?"

"Sure Dympna, I'm on my way back now, should be at the hotel in a few."

"Excellent! alrigh' I'll see you then!"

Dympna was right, the clouds had parted and the sun snuck out just as you heard a few loud honks below your window, you looked out and saw his little red car parked out front, then his blonde head from the drivers side window. He hung both arms out of it, drumming on the door.

He waved at you as you came out of the doors, the doorman holding it open for you as you thanked him. Dympna hurried out of the car, ran around to your side and opened the door for you.

He smiled so wide his dimples looked the size of potholes in the sun. "Told ya' I was a gentlemen!" He shut the door, slapping the hood before hopping in next to you and took off, no doubt going over the speed limit as you drove around a bend towards the beach.

The sand was hot beneath your feet, shoes and socks left behind on a blanket he'd brought out from the trunk. You both rolled up the bottoms of your jeans to your calves, though it didn't matter as you made it down to the crushing waves, he took your hand as you ran down to the water. It was freezing! you shrieked while he doubled over and laughed, you kicked some of the water at him when a wave rushed up. He chased after you when you took off, he called out after you as you ran, steering past a few kids building a sandcastle and mote.

"You like it?" Dympna asked when you made it back to your blanket, lounging on your sides, facing each other though he was the one to be facing the high sun, squinting and yielding up his hand along his smooth brow.

"I love it, it's beautiful."

"Sure is," out of the corner of your eye, as usual you could see him watching you. His scent of tobacco and cologne now tinged with the salt from your frolicking. Your arm shook so you propped yourself up on both elbows instead of one. You turned to face him but he was quick to turn away.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do want, Yankee?" He looked out at the water with a coy grin.

"I know you're looking at me but when iI look you're always quick to turn away."

"Exactly!" he exclaimed and dropped onto his back, he'd rolled up the sleeve of his sweater, tucking his jacket beneath his head in a makeshift pillow. "Can't have you catchin' me lookin'."

"But why don't you just let me look at you back?"

Dympna made a face in the sun, still squinting. "It's too real, you're too real. Besides I'm tryin' my hardest not to kiss ya' every two minutes, so."

Oh.

You smiled and wiggled your toes, you felt your cunt clench at the way his voice dropped. You licked your lips at his unsuspected answer, though you had realized when he did talk to you his eyes always went to your mouth first then your eyes. "You want to kiss me?"

"O' course I do! been thinkin' about since I saw you at the diner, jeez."

You shifted when he closed his eyes, when he opened them you were blocking out the sun for him as you hovered above him, he dug his head back into his jacket. He squinted at you anyway. You stilled your shaky hand on his chest before speaking again.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course ya' can."

"Are... are you really as dangerous as I've heard?" Blood pounded in your ears as if you were at the front of bass speaker at a music festival. You watched him work his jaw for moment and thought you might have misspoke, you bit your lip in anticipation.

Fuck.

Dympna sighed but grabbed your shoulder before you could move back from shading him. "You've no doubt heard about my family since ya' been here I suppose. I'm not dangerous Y/N, if I 'ave to get mean I can but for the most part that's Arm's job. He gets it done. Don' get me wrong now we're a powerful family here, we can shift our weight when we need to but if they stay in line so do we. We're not in the killin' business if that's what yer thinkin', more like... we'll knock ya' around a bit but we won't kill ya'," his hand moved up the side of your neck holding you there and keeping full on eye contact. He licked his lips and you saw his Adam's apple shift. "I'm loyal to those I need to be loyal to, I'm trusting just the same way, understand?"

You nodded.

"Does that scare you?"

You tilted your head a bit and shrugged. "A little."

Dympna smiled sweetly. "You don't need to be scared o’ me girly, you've been good to us an' we'll continue to be good to you."

You surprised not only yourself but the man beneath you when you bent down and kissed him. He didn't move at first, you could feel him jerk under your hand but then his lips started to move against your own, savoring your taste. He hummed against your mouth, you could feel the corners of his lips turned up in a smile as he deepened it, his free hand covering your own on his pectoral.

He nipped your bottom lip, swiping over it with his tongue as he slid it over your own.

"Aye get a room you two! there's wee ones about!" Someone shouted near by, grumbling.

Unfortunately Dympna's phone rang from his pocket next to your hip.

"Ah fuck off." He mumbled against your kiss, waving his hand on your neck way at the air around you.

"You should get that," you breathed but continued. "Might be important."

He shook his head, "Nothin' as important as right now."

His phone rang a second time and he pulled away with a grouchy face and plumper lips. "Fucks sake! what?," he pinched the bridge of his nose with a defeated groan talking about a job. He hung up and gave you a pouty look. "Sorry Yank, got a job to do gonna' have to cut this short."

"You do what you have to." You pushed off him to get your things but he stopped you short, pecking the tip of your nose before he tapped it with his finger, then pointed to your mouth.

"I'm quite fond of your kissing."

You felt hot when you stood, putting on your shoes. "I'm fond of yours too." You smiled, licking his drying spit from your mouth.

"I'll drop you off at the hotel, don' worry. I'll call you later."

....

As you settled into bed you're mind wandered back to Dympna. Meeting and hanging around the locals was apart of your job, of course they know their providence more than anyone else, where and where not to go, what hill was the best for wildlife, what creek was the prettiest at a certain time of day or where could you get the best tasting fish. But you weren't planning on kissing any of them except for Dympna.

You felt unnaturally comfortable and ease with the man even though you shouldn't. You bit your lip as you thought about it, how often you'd heard the Devers name and how the people in twin talked about them. They had some skin in the game, Arm was a good guy you could tell, even if he was the muscle of the operation.

The fresh cuts to his knuckles told anyone who dared to ask.

Dympna told you you were safe, weren't a target as long as he was around. An honorary member while you were in Ireland but-- was it wise? You'd had a few run ins in other countries and States so this wasn't new but you had to keep your eyes and ears open.

You turned out the lights.

Not ten minutes later your phone rang, blurring your vision as you grabbed it from the nightstand.

"How do, Yankee girl?" Dympna sang into the phone and you smiled.

"Hey yourself. How was the job?"

"Oh that? Not too bad. Guy knew we were coming, had our money already set out and everything! Smart man. Listen I was thinking about today, at the beach..." you thought for a moment he'd bring up the kiss but he surprised you with a question instead. "You ever been to the beach at night?"

"Can't say that I have, why?"

"Excellent! There's a full moon Friday night, thought maybe you'd like a night date, bring your camera and get some good shots, yeah? They are called shots right?"

You laughed and imagined his cute face all scrunched up in question. "Yeah. That sounds like fun."

You heard Dympna hum through the phone followed by some light rustling.

"You're having a lot fun on this trip huh?"

"I am. You're a bonus."

"Oh! I like the sound of that, so." You could hear more shifting on his end, no doubt himself getting tucked into bed too. It was well after midnight. "I had fun today."

"You told me that already, when you dropped me off."

"I know I know," you could hear the lilt and smile in his voice. "Can't 'urt in telling you again. You know... we could have some fun right now if you want."

Oh.

You switched ears, your heart plummeted down to your feet. "And what kind of fun are you talking about?"

"The phone sex kind." Dympna laughed.

You wiggled your toes against the soft sheets, honestly you weren't opposed to the idea. After he'd dropped you at the hotel you couldn't stop thinking about kissing him, how he smiled against your lips.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're trouble."

Dympna laughed. "How's about you put me on speaker then, put me next to your head."

You did as he asked, his voice filled up the space. "What do you want me to do now?"

Dympna was good, damn good. Maybe too good. His voice dropped a little lower, a playful tone in the way he talked to you, asking you to grope your chest and close your eyes. When Dympna sighed you moved your hand between your legs when his exclamation that he was touching himself on the other end. You moved the phone closer and could just barely hear his stroking.

You hummed.

"You sound delighted sweetheart."

"I am," you purred, opening your legs. "I can hear you."

"Good. I wan' you to hear me, I'd like to really hear you though."

A thought twisted its way up your spine and turned on the lightbulb, you bit your lip and moved the phone between your legs, settled just near your cunt.

Tearing off your panties you circled your clit before moving your fingers between your lips, fingering yourself for the man on the phone. You moaned. "Can you hear that?" you added a second finger, pulling them out with the sound of your arousal.

"Oh fuck, yeah sweetheart I can hear that," Dympna groaned again when you moved them in quick succession, building your orgasm that would surely rip through you in a sudden flurry if he kept this up. "All that for me, then? wish I could see it."

"You will." You gasped, using your other hand to grope your chest again, pumping your fingers in and out. Dympna grunted into the phone, the vibration of his voice and growing pants for release had you bucking your pussy into your hand. "Ha I'm close!"

"Shit yeah me too, keep those legs open and get yourself off. Bet you got the cutest little face right now." Dympna whined and you pinched your face, your mouth falling open as you felt yourself twitch and tighten around your fingers.

"I'm coming oh my-" your words garbled into a whimpering mess, soaking your fingers imagining it was the man on the phone, curling his fingers inside you.

"That's it that's it, sound so damn good sweetheart. Fuck yes!" Dympna groaned a few times, you had just pulled out your wet fingers at the sound of him coming. You breathed and moved the phone closer, back up to your ear.

"Now that was fun." You giggled.

"Didn't I tell ya' sweetheart?" Dympna said with a smile on his voice, you head him cleaning up a bit before he talked more about your night date before you two said goodnight.

....

He picked you up that Friday night, well into pitch dark territory as you walked down the beach. He was right, a night time beach date was absolutely stunning. You got some great shots of the waves on the surf, crashing against the sand in the moonlit sky. The stars were incredible. You were definitely going to get at least one award for these pictures; you were certain of it.

It had started to drizzle. You didn’t mind but the way Dympna had voiced his annoyance, hiding and smoking beneath his coat had you putting your things away; suggesting you two head back to your hotel. Dympna liked that idea, he ran around to your door first, opening it as a flash of lightning you wished you would’ve caught on camera lit up the sky over the water. He hopped, giving your shoulder a quick squeeze before starting up the old red beater.

Dympna sat on your bed, boots left unlaced against the door, his leather jacket tossed away by your open and messy suitcase scrolling leisurely through your laptop. You came out of the bathroom and he smiled up at you, his hand holding his jaw.

"You said I could get a print if I wan' it right? Can I have a few more than one?" You nodded.

"Which ones do you like best?"

He clicked a few and you memorized each one but stopped when he took your hand. "I'd also fancy a request."

"A request huh?"

"I'd like one wit' you before you head out. For memory sake... and in case I do make it to America one day, I can show 'em the most beautiful girl I know and where to find 'er "

You felt your body warm through, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. He was a charmer this Dympna and you were under his spell for sure.

"Suave. Of course we can take a few."

"Good."

His smile stretched all the way and possibly past his hairline, he kissed your temple when he got up to use your bathroom.

He came out with a grin. "That's a nice fuckin' bath you got in there!"

"I know I'm gonna miss that thing when I go home, I took one earlier.”

Dympna hummed and nodded, looking into the larger bathroom then back to you as you moved your laptop to the dresser. "You wanna take another one?"

Your head snapped just as he wiggled how eyebrows and bit his bottom lip. "Now?"

"Yeah. Why not? Take a bath with me."

"Pretty bold of you to ask but," you moved over to him, your hands on his ribs while all he could was look at you with a heated gaze. "Sounds like fun."

And it was. It really was. You watched him pull at the back of his shirt, fumbling with his belt and jeans. He stood there in his dark boxers briefs, joking that you were clearly over dressed. You out your arms up for him to undress you. He took his time looking over your skin, calling you beautiful with every new inch of exposed skin.

You may have glanced down when Dympna slid out of his boxer and Dympna maybe looked a little too long at your breasts before you got in the tub. You shut off the water. Dympna got in first, flicking little hot droplets on your skin before you joined him, your back against his chest.

You couldn't be certain if he was hot already or if it was from the bath, either way it was giving you goosebumps and made the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand.

His arm came up to rest on the side of the tub, his fingers dipping into the water.

"This is nice." You said and leaned back against him, he moved his head for yours to rest against his shoulder.

"Know what would be even nicer?"

You hummed and closed your eyes. "What?"

Dympna moved his other hand beneath the water and cupped your mound. You gasped but didn't move.

"Is that a yes sweetheart?" You shivered at his voice in your ear.

"Yes."

Once you felt his fingers start to move you felt like you were on fire, his toned muscles flexing languidly building you up for what the Irishman had planned.

Apparently it was to break you apart, little by little he stroked between your folds, separating your lips, getting a good feel of your count. You splashed in the water and Dympna chuckled.

"Easy girl, easy. I've got you."

The way he moved his fingers, stomach muscles tightening against your back had you whimpering in his hand, the other came up and held your neck. He told you to open your eyes and when you did he was smiling sweetly, his lip between his teeth as he teased your opening with one finger then another. You moaned, your brows furrowing with delight. His fingers felt better then your own, fragments of your phone sex call bloomed in your brain. He pulled them out only to watch your face contort when he pushed them back in.

The barely there scar and tattoo on his face had never looked more soft.

"That's it. God you feel incredible, so fuckin' pretty in my lap like this. Does it feel good sweetheart?" Dympna asked, still holding your face under twitching digits.

"Yes! Oh my god yes..."

The only sounds were splashing water and his working breath on your face. You stretched when little gap there was left between you and kissed him sloppily, swallowing the moan that now filled your mouth when he started to fuck his tongue against your own.

You pulled away with a groan of your own, looking down between your legs at his thrusting hand. "Dympna please..."

"Oh that's nice. Cry for me again sweetheart."

He pulled them out again, circling and rubbing your clit faster and faster until you cried, grabbing the sides of the tub for purchase as he finally succeeded in breaking you. You came with a high wail of his name.

He brought his hand to a slower pace, using the pads of four fingers to linger on your clit, pressing down just a little more as you panted against him. You blinked rapidly as if from some delicious dream but you were there, right there in his arms and in this tub.

"Amazing." Dympna kissed you again, softer this time and without care, just talking your mouth pressed to his. Plumb and swollen from your own assault. He licked the corner of your mouth.

"Bedroom. Now." You sighed, your already worked cunt squeezing around nothing at the way his blue eyes darkened just a tad, a knowing smirk rising up his flushed cheeks.

"Ah you wan' more of Dympna then, huh?" He asked damn well knowing the answer. He laughed when you climbed out of the bath tub, legs a little wobbly as you grabbed a towel and tossed one his way.

....

Dympna enjoyed the way you clung to him, clearly trying to get as close to him as possible, trying to mold yourself into him. You didn't know where you ended and he began, he had you splayed out on your back, still a little damp but neither one of your could be bothered to care.

He was fucking intense with that eye contact, picking up on what you liked as he gripped your hip glued to his waist. Dympna squeezed your thigh as he fucked down into you, his healthy cock had spilt you damn near in two especially if he hadn't eaten you before hand. Which he did, moving his mouth over your slit, teasing your hole with the sharp tip of his tongue. His dyed hair may have been short but what you could hold onto, you pulled him as close as possible to your pussy.

Dympna made you cum that way first before stroking himself against your mound and stomach, he had circled the blunt head of his hard cock around your clit a few times before holding himself steady and rocked into you.

Dympna's cock punched the air from your lungs, holding onto his forearms while he studied you beneath him, a low groan of his own filling the room.

He was on the verge of drooling, you could see it glisten over his bottom lip. You leaned up and kissed him, whining into his mouth while you dug your fingernails into his triceps, dragging them down made Dympna snap his eyes shut.

"Holy fuck sweetheart. Ya' feel so fuckin' good, could fuckin' stay like this forever. God dammit, so fuckin' tight for me. You're on cloud fuckin' nine ain't ya' sweetheart? can feel your cute pussy gripping me damn good too." Dympna pressed himself off to one side, holding onto the arch of your foot against the outside of his thigh, you whined and pressed your head back into the pillows.

"Yes," you kissed his forearm, giving the inside meat a gentle bite. Dympna grunted and circled his hips, when he did that though he hit something deep inside your cunt that had you on the verge of tears. You sobbed again. "Fuck me. Harder Dympna, harder."

He bit at the inside of his cheek and gave you a nod, he gave one of your breasts a half solid slap, enjoying the way you arched up into him as he pinched the other nipple getting you to make a noise you hadn't made before. He picked his pace, sitting back onto his haunches with his hands under your back so your shoulders pushed into the mattress.

He was building himself up, gather up both of your legs underneath the backs of your legs, hefting them over one shoulder.

"Good fuckin' pussy sweetheart," Dympna grunted, giving your knees a quick and messy kiss as he continued to pound into you. His nails might have short and blunt but you could feel the way they dug into your skin, pinching the flesh there. "Ya' so fuckin' wet for me, yeah? beautiful... just b-beautiful. Can' wait for you to cum on me, fuckin' soak my cock sweetheart. Gonna' make me mess outta' you."

You moaned at the thought, gripping the sheets beneath you. You felt it, the steady pulse of blood in your ears, your heart hammering along with that satisfying ache that had been laid out by Dympna brick by brick.

"Yeah, God yeah. I'm close, I'm gonna' cum." You panted.

Dympna lifted your hips just a few inches more that had you fucking spiraling, your eyes blurred shut as you felt his fingers swipe against your clit, using the same momentum he had in the tub to get your off.

You yelped and made another garbled noise that was meant to be his name but came out odd. Your chest heaved, your own hands going to hold just under your ribs, under your bouncing breasts.

Dympna growled at the sight, you clenched around him. Your mouth fell open with a silent sound as you gripped him, your walls holding his cock nice and snug.

"Tha's it sweetheart, fuck sake!" Dympna hung his head, centimeters from clocking his forehead to yours, he dripped sweat. "So fuckin' good. Ya' gonna milk me then? make me cum too..."

"Cum inside me," you held onto him, the thick slap of his hips against the backs of yours cacophonied around the room. "Please, wanna' feel you wanna'--"

That set him off; Dympna held your legs tighter as he looked down at you one more time, three more delicious thrusts had him grinding his jaw. He came with a pained voice, a grunt that had turned into an obscene moan when he filled you up. Fucked you empty only to made full of him.

Dympna collapsed on top of you, out of breath and fucking spent. You held him to your collar by the back of his head, your nails in the blonde mop of hair at the top of his head. You stroked his back, an attempt to soothe him down. His back muscles twitched like his cock still hugging your walls.

"What I tell ya' sweetheart," Dympna mumbled against your skin, giving the column of your throat a few sloppy and tired kisses. "Stick wit' me and y-you'll be bound to have some f-fun."

#dympna devers #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers x female reader #dympna imagine #dympna devers smut #dympna fic #calm with horses (2019)#dympna devers imagine #dympna devers x fic #the shadow of violence #the shadow of violence fic #the shadow of violence imagine

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beakeoghan · 3 years

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Barry Keoghan (2019)

Calm With Horses Interview

Source: Pinterest , Interview

#barry keoghan #calm with horses #dympna devers x reader #druig x reader #druig headers #druig imagine #druig icons #barry keoghan icons #i can’t

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itsmadamehydra · 2 years

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Ok, it's official. My newest obsessions are Angus Cloud and Barry Keoghan 😫 I mean, Fezco, druig and Dympna like...can you judge me? I think not <3

#fezco #euphoria #fezco euphoria #fezco imagine #barry keoghan #calm with horses #druig #eternals fan writing #marvel #dympna x reader #dympna devers #the shadow of violence #dympna fanfic #dympna

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weekendwarriorblog · 4 years

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The Weekend Warrior Home Edition 7/31/20 – THE SHADOW OF VIOLENCE, SUMMERLAND, THE SECRET: DARE TO DREAM, SHE DIES TOMORROW and More!

As I started to gather what’s left of my wits for this week’s column, there seemed to be fewer movies than usual, and I was quite thankful for that. Then, a few of the movies scheduled for some sort of theatrical release this weekend were delayed and I discovered a bunch of movies I didn’t have in my release calendar to begin with, so this is a little bit of an odd weekend but still one with 8 movies reviews! I went into most of the movies this weekend without much knowledge of what they were about, probably was the best way to go into many of them, since it allowed me to be somewhat open-minded about what I was watching.

The first surprise of the week is that we’re getting another decent film from the one and only Saban Films, so maybe the VOD distributor has been using the pandemic to step up its game as well. Directed by first-time feature director Nick Rowland, the Irish crime-drama THE SHADOW OF VIOLENCE (Saban Films), based on the book “Calm with Horses,” stars relative newcomer Cosmo Jarvis as Douglas Armstrong, known as “Arm,” the enforcer for the drug-dealing Devers family. Douglas also has a young toddler with local woman Ursula (Niamh Algar), but when his handler Dympna (Barry Keoghan) orders Arm to kill for the first time, he’s forced to rethink his career.

Much of the story revolves a member of the Devers family caught making a lurid pass at Dympha’s 16-year-old sister, leading to consequences, as Arm is sent to beat the crap out of him. For head of the family, that isn’t nearly enough and soon, Arm is ordered to kill the man. (This aspect of the story reminds me a little of Todd Field’s Little Children, particularly the Jackie Earle Haley subplot.)

As I mentioned above, I watched this film with zero expectations and was taken quite aback by how great it was, despite not having been that big a fan of Keoghan from some of his past work. On the other hand, Cosmo Jarvis, in his first major role, is absolutely outstanding, giving a performance on par with something we might see from Thomas Hardy or Matthias Schoenaerts, at least in their earlier work. Barely saying a word, Jarvis instills so many emotions into “Arm” as we see him playing with his young autistic son, Jack, trying to keep his jealousy over Ursula under control, while also being there when Dympna needs him. Even as you think you’re watching fairly innocuous day-to-day stuff, Rowland ratchets up the tension to an amazing degree right up until a climactic moment that drives the last act.

Despite the film’s title, The Shadow of Violence isn’t just about violence, as much as it is about a man trying to figure out how to change the trajectory of his life. If you like character-based films like The Rider, this movie is definitely going to be for you. Another surprise is that the movie will be available only in theaters this Friday, rather than the typical VOD approach Saban Films generally takes, so check your local theater if it’s playing near you.

The faith-based drama THE SECRET: DARE TO DREAM (Lionsgate), starring Katie Holmes and Josh Lucas, is directed by Andy Tennant (Hitch, Sweet Home Alabama) and adapted from Rhonda Byrne’s self-help book, The Secret (which is based on a 2006 movie also called The Secret). Originally planned for a theatrical release, it’s now being released as PVOD, which seems to be the way that so many movies are going now. In it, Holmes plays Miranda Wells, a struggling widow living in New Orleans with three kids who on a stormy night meets a kind stranger (Lucas) who tries to pass on his philosophy of using positive thinking to get whatever you want in life.

Mini-Review: I don’t usually buy into some of the faith-based movies that are released every year, but that’s mainly because I rarely get a chance to see any of them, so why bother? I was ready to go into The Secret: Dare to Dream with a healthy amount of skepticism, because it seemed to be another movie about grand miracles… but in fact, it’s just a bland movie pimping Rhonda Byrne’s New Thought technique from her New Age-y self help book.

The idea is that positive thinking is all that it takes to get anything you want, something no less than Oprah quickly glommed onto. While the movie doesn’t hit you over the head with such a message, and “God” is only mentioned once, it also just doesn’t seem to offer much in terms of storytelling to maintain one’s interest.

Katie Holmes does a fine job playing an amiable single mother who meets Josh Lucas’ Bray Johnson as a huge storm is about to hit New Orleans, and he seems like a nice enough fellow as he helps her replace a broken bumper (after she rear-ended him, no less) and then fixing up the house after the storm. But Bray has a secret (hence the title) and it’s in an important envelope that he hesitates to give to Miranda.

The film’s biggest problem is that there never is much in terms of stake when it comes to the drama, because Bray seems to be there to fix everything and make everything better. Miranda’s only other real relation is an awkward one with Jerry O’Connell’s long-time (presumably platonic) friend Tucker, which only gets more awkward when he surprises her by popping the question. She says “Yes” without talking to her own kids first. The whole time while watching the film, I was expecting some sort of big Nicholas Spark level romance between Miranda and Bray, so when Tucker proposes, it throws a real spanner in the works, but only for a little while.

Incidentally, the “secret” of the title that Bray resists telling Miranda until pressured isn’t particularly groundbreaking either. I won’t ruin it. You’ll just be annoyed when it’s finally revealed.

The Secret: Dare to Dream is as generic and bland a tale you can possibly get, one that really doesn’t accomplish very much and feels more like a Lifetime movie than something particularly revelatory.

Rating: 6/10

Jessica Swale’s WW2-set SUMMERLAND (IFC Films) stars Gemma Arterton as fantasy author Alice Lamb, quietly living on the South of England in a small beachside town when she’s presented with a young London evacuee named Frank (Lucas Bond) for her to mind while his father’s at war. Alice lives alone but many years earlier, she had a friendship with a local woman named Vera (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) that turned into something more, despite the taboo of their relationship during those times.

This was another nice surprise, and as I watched the movie, it was hard not to compare it to last week’s Radioactive, since they’re movies intended to appeal to a similar audience. This one seems to be more focused, and Arterton does a better job being likeable despite being as persnickety as Pike’s Marie Currie. Although this isn’t a biopic, it did remind me of films like Goodbye Christopher Robin and Tolkien, and possibly even Finding Neverland. (Incidentally, the Summerland of the title is a mythical place that Alice is writing about, which adds to the fairy tale angle to the film.)

As the film goes along, there’s a pretty major twist, of sorts, and it’s when the stakes in the film start to feel more dramatic as things continue to elevate into the third act. The movie actually opens in 1975 with Penelope Wilton playing the older Alice, although I’m not sure the framing sequence was particularly needed for the film to work the way Swale intended.

Summerland is generally just a nice and pleasant film that stirs the emotions and shows Swale to be a filmmaker on the rise.

Another really nice indie film that might involve a bit more searching is director Sergio Navaretta’s THE CUBAN (Brainstorm Media), written by Alessandra Piccione. It follows 19-year-old Mina (played by Ana Golja), a Canadian pre-med student who lives with her aunt, Bano (Shohreh Aghdashloo), who pushes her career in medicine, although Mina would rather be a singer. At her part-time job at a long-term care facility, Mina meets Luis (Louis Gossett Jr.), a quiet elderly patient who sits in his wheelchair never talking to anyone until Mina discovers his love for music, and the two bond over that, although Mina’s employers don’t think she’s helping Luis despite his obvious change in nature.

This was just a lovely film driven by Golja, who is just wonderful in the lead role with an equally terrific cast around her, and while it gets a little obvious, I can’t imagine anyone not enjoying this film that harks back to some of the great earlier work by Thomas McCarthy, as it follows a touching story that mixes a number of cultures in a surprisingly fluid way. It turned out to be quite a pleasant and unexpected film in the way it deals with subjects like dementia in such a unique and compelling away, especially if you enjoy Cuban music.

The Cuban already played at a couple Canadian theaters, but it will be available via Virtual Cinema and in some American theaters Friday, and you can find out where at the Official Site.

I was pretty excited to see Amy Seimetz’s new film, SHE DIES TOMORROW (NEON), since I was quite a fan of her previous film, Sun Don’t Shine. Besides having played quite a fantastic role in recent independent cinema through her varied associations, Seimetz also cast Kate Lyn Sheil, a fantastic actress, in the main role. It’s a little hard to explain the film’s plot, but essentially Sheil plays Amy, a woman convinced she’s going to die tomorrow, a feeling that starts spreading to others around her. I’m not sure if you would get this just from watching the film, because it’s pretty vague and even a little confusing about what is happening despite the high concept premise.

For the first 15 minutes or so, the camera spends the entire time watching Sheil as she cries and hugs a wall, while listening to the same opera record over and over. When her friend Jane (Jane Adams) comes over to check on her, she finds her vacuuming in a fancy dress. Amy tells her friend that she’s going to die tomorrow, and she wants to be turned into a leather jacket. Soon, after we’re watching Jane, a scientist, going down the same wormhole as Amy. That’s pretty much the running narrative, although the film opens up when we meet some of Jane’s family and friends, including Katie Aselton, Chris Messina, Tunde Adebimpe, Michelle Rodriguez and more. Soon after we meet them, they TOO are convinced that they’re going to die tomorrow. Incidentally (and spoiler!), no one actually dies in the movie. Heck, I’d hesitate even to call this a “horror” movie because it takes the idea of a pandemic that we’ve seen in movies like Bird Box, Contagion and others and sucks all the genre right out of it, but it still works as a character piece.

The thing is that the film looks great and also feels quite unique, which does make She Dies Tomorrow quite compelling, as well as a great vehicle for both Sheil and Seimetz. Even so, it’s also very much a downer and maybe not the best thing to watch if you aren’t in a good place, emotionally. You’ve been warned. It will open at select drive-ins this weekend, but it will then be available via VOD next Friday, August 7.

Next up, we have two fantastic and inspiring docs that premiered at Sundance earlier this year…

In recent years, Ron Howard has made a pretty amazing transition into respectable documentary filmmaker, and that continues with REBUILDING PARADISE (National Geographic), which takes a look at the horrible fires that struck Northern California in November 2018, literally wiping out the town of Paradise and leaving over 50,000 people homeless and killing roughly 85 people.

It’s really horrifying to see the amount of destruction caused when a spark from a faulty transmission line ignites the particularly dry forest surrounding the town of Paradise, destroying the hospital and elementary school and displacing the homeowners. This is obviously going to be a tough film to watch, not only seeing the fires actually raze the town to the ground but also watching these not particularly wealthy people having to contend with losing their homes. (It’s even tougher to watch now since you wonder how COVID may have affected the town as it’s in better shape now then it was last year.)

Using a cinema verité approach (for the first time possible?), Howard finds a small group of people to follow, including the town’s former mayor, the school superintendent, a local police officer, and others. It’s pretty impressive how much time this doc covers, and often, you may wonder if Ron Howard was there at all times, because it seems like he would have to have been embedded with the townspeople for an entire year to get some of the footage.

As I said, this is not an easy film to watch, especially as you watch these people dealing with so much tragedy – if you’ve seen any of the docs about Sandy Hook, you might have some idea how hard this movie may be to watch for you. But it is great, since it shows Howard achieving a new level as a documentary filmmaker with a particularly powerful piece.

Produced by Kerry Washington, THE FIGHT (Magnolia Pictures) is the latest doc from Weiner directors Elyse Steinberg, Josh Kriegman, this time joined as director by that film’s editor, Eli B. Despres. The “fight” of the title is the one between the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) and the Trump administration that began shortly after his inauguration in 2017, his Muslim travel ban that quickly followed, and going up until mid-2019 when a lot of obvious civil rights violations were being perpetrated by the U.S. government.

This is a particularly interesting doc if you weren’t aware of how active the ACLU has been in helping to protect people’s rights on a variety of fronts. The doc covers four particular cases involving immigration, LGBTQ rights, voting rights and reproductive rights, and we watch the lawyers involved in four important cases, including a few that are taken right up to the Supreme Court. In following these four particular lawyers, the filmmakers do a great job helping the viewer understand how important the ACLU is in keeping the conservative right at bay from trying to repeal some previous laws made to protect Americans’ rights.

Of course, this film is particularly timely since it covers a lot of dramatic changes, including the nomination of Justice Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court, which ends up being ironic, since he was the judge presiding over an earlier ACLU case involving a pregnant teen immigrant who isn’t allowed to get an abortion. The movie doesn’t skirt the fact that often the ACLU is called upon to help the likes of white supremacists and potential terrorist factions, since they’re about protecting everyone’s rights. I would have loved to hear more about this, but it does cover the backlash to the ACLU after the Charlottesville protests went horribly wrong in 2017.

Be warned that there are moments in this film where the waterworks will start flowing since seeing the ACLU succeed against oppression is particularly moving. If you’ve been following the country’s shifting politics keenly and want to learn more about the ACLU, The Fight does a great job getting behind closed doors and humanizing the organization.

The Fight will be available on all digital and On Demand platforms starting Friday, and you can find out how to rent it at the Official Site.

Vinnie Jones (remember him?) stars in Scott Wiper’s crime-thriller THE BIG UGLY (Vertical) about a pair of British mobsters who travel to West Virginia to make an oil deal in order to launder money. Once there, they encounter some troubles with the locals, particularly the sadistic son of Ron Perlman’s Preston, the man with whom they’re dealing.

Sometimes, as a film critic, you wonder how a movie that has so much potential can turn into such an unmitigated disaster, but then you watch a movie like The Big Ugly, and you realize that some bad filmmakers are better at talking people into doing things than others.

That seems to be the case with this film in which Jones plays Leland, who comes to West Virginia with his boss Harris (McDowell) to make an oil deal with Ron Perlman’s Preston, only for the latter’s son “PJ” (Brandon Sklenar) causing trouble, including the potential murder of Leland’s girlfriend. Of course, one would expect to see tough guy Vinnie Jones out for revenge against the endless parade of sleaze-balls he encounters, and that may have been a better movie than what Wiper ended up making, which is all over the place in terms of tone. (It was only after I watched the film did I realize that Wiper wrote and directed the absolutely awful WWE Film, The Condemned, also starring Jones. If I only knew.)

Jones isn’t even the worst part of the cast, in terms of the acting, because both McDowell and Perlman, two great actors, struggle through the terrible material, though Perlman generally fares better than McDowell, who doesn’t seem to be giving it his all.

There’s a whole subplot involving one of PJ’s friends/co-workers (recent Emmy nominee Nicholas Braun from HBO’s Succession) and his relationship with a pretty local (Lenora Crichlow) that goes nowhere and adds nothing to the overall story. Once PJ is seemingly dealt with, there’s still almost 35 minutes more of movie, including a long monologue by Perlman telling a sorely wasted Bruce McGill how he met McDowell’s character. Not only does it kill any and all momentum leading up to that point, but it’s probably something that should have been part of the set-up earlier in the film.

The fact this movie is so bad is pretty much Wiper’s fault, becuase he wrote a script made up of so many ideas that never really fit together – kind of like Guy Ritchie doing a very bad Deliverance remake before deciding to turn it into a straight-up Western. Wiper then tries his hardest to salvage the movie by throwing in violence and explosions and leaning heavily on the soundtrack. (The fact that both this and the far superior The Shadow of Violence used a song from the Jam was not lost on this music enthusiast.) Regardless, The Big Ugly is a pretty detestable piece of trash that couldn’t end fast enough… and it didn’t. (It played in drive-ins and select theaters last Friday but will be available on digital and On Demand this Friday.)

Available through Virtual Cinemas (supporting Film Forum and the Laemmle in L.A) is Martha Kehoe and Joan Tosoni’s documentary, Gordon Lightfoot: If You Could Read My Mind, about the Canadian singer-songwriter who changed people’s impressions of Canadian culture, covering Lightfoots’s greatest triumphs and failures.

Film at Lincoln Center’s Virtual Cinema will premiere Koji Fukada’s Japanese drama A Girl Missing (Film Movement) on Friday, while New York’s Metrograph Live Screening series continues this week with Manfred Kirchheimer’s Bridge High & Stations of the Elevated starting today through Friday, and then the premiere of Nan Goldin’s Sirens (with two other shorts) starting on Friday. You can subscribe to the series for $5 a month or $50 a year.

Premiering on Disney+ this Friday is Beyoncé’s Black is King, her new visual album inspired by the lessons from The Lion King, as well as the new original Muppets series, Muppets Now. Since I haven’t seen either Lion King movie, I’m definitely looking forward more to the Muppets returning to "television.”

Launching on Netflix today is Matias Mariani’s Shine Your Eyes about a Nigerian musician who travels to Sao Paulo to look for his estranged brother and bring him back to Nigeria, as well as Sue Kim’s doc short, The Speed Cubers, set in the world of competitive Rubik cube solving and the friendly rivalry between two young “speedcubers.” Also, Season 2 of The Umbrella Academy will premiere on Netflix this Friday.

Premiering on Shudder tomorrow (Thursday, July 30) is Rob Savage’s Host, the first horror movie made during the quarantine about a group of six friends who decide to hold a séance over Zoom.

Amazon’s drive-in series continues tonight with “Movies to Inspire Your Inner Child,” playing Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse and Hook.

Next week, more movies not in theaters!

By the way, if you read this week’s column and have bothered to read this far down, feel free to drop me some thoughts at Edward dot Douglas at Gmail dot Com or drop me a note or tweet on Twitter. I love hearing from readers … honest!

#TheWeekendWarrior #SheDiesTomorrow #Summerland #TheCuban #Movies #Reviews #TheFight #RebuildingParadise #TheShadowOfViolence #VOD #Streaming #TheSecretDareToDream

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stranger-nightmare · 3 years

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬

Pairing: Dympna Devers x (female) Reader

Summary: just another a late night hookup with Dympna in the back of his car

Warnings: bit of fluff, mostly smut, fingering, penetrative sex (m+f), creampie, cockwarming, minors DNI

A/N: look at me go with another idea coming to me whilst I fall asleep and quickly scrambling a note on my phone at like 2:30am💀 anyway I of course can’t post this without tagging @siempre-bucky and @mothdruid, enjoy my fellow Dympna whores😈😌

This is for people 18+ only. Minors do not read on. If you click ‘keep reading’ you are hereby agreeing that you are 18 or older.

Another day, another late night rendezvous with Dymphna in the back of his car.

Your stomach had fluttered the way it always does when you get that all too familiar text from him.

Pick you up at 11.

So now here you were, parked in some abandoned car park on the outskirts of town, sat in the back seat with Dympna's lips on yours, his one hand underneath your skirt. His other hand was draped around your shoulders as he held you against his side where you were sat next to him. You were leaning back against the seat whilst he towered over you. You feel him smirk against your lips as he reaches the apex of your thighs, his fingers skimming your folds.

“No panties?” He whispers huskily against your lips.

You let out a soft giggle before recapturing his lips with yours, delving your tongue into his mouth. You barely hear the small moan that leaves your throat when his fingers push into your folds, lightly brushing your clit.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already” he groans into your mouth as his fingers run through your slit, gathering your slick.

“I’ve been thinking about you all night since you texted me” you bite his bottom lip, relishing in the sound he makes.

He then pulls back slightly to look at you, a small smirk curving the edge of his mouth.

“Oh yeah? Thinkin’ ‘bout what exactly darlin’?”

His eyes darken with a kind of smug lust when you gasp as he pushes a finger inside you. You bite your own lip now as you try and stop the almost embarrassing string of moans that threaten to leave you as he starts to pump his finger in and out of you slowly.

“You been thinking about this, hmm? ‘Bout all the things I’m gonna do t'ya in the back of my car?” He hums darkly.

All you can do is nod and bite your lip even harder as he slips another finger inside you.

“Hmm, y' like that don’t ya?” He smirks again as he watches you writhe under his touch.

You nod and let out a pathetic whimpered “yes” as he works his fingers even deeper inside you.

His pace is slow and languid as it usually is. He cherished these stolen moments with you and never wanted to rush things. He liked to take his time when he could. He pumps you slow but deep, his fingers curling to hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust of his hand. You rock your hips in time with his hand, working towards a slow burn climax, a fire building in the pit of your stomach.

After a while he adds his thumb to the mix, rubbing it against your clit. You gasp and shudder at the new sensation, the fire in your stomach reaching an apex.

“Ah, D, I’m close” you whine, looking at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to let you cum.

“I know love” he smiles down at you, a softness in his expression. “Go on, cum f'me baby,” he whispers fervently as he rubs his nose against yours.

His words finally tip you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, radiating through every inch of your body. You keep your eyes on him as you fall apart on his fingers, knowing how much he loves to watch the pleasure stretch across your face.

“Atta girl” he praises as you start to come down from your high.

He smiles softly at you once more before he reattaches his lips to yours. He pulls his fingers out of you, swallowing the small squeak that sounds from you. Both of his hands find their way to your hips and he pulls you over to straddle him, spreading his legs out on the backseat. He groans into your mouth as you almost immediately begin to grind against his already hard cock where it strained against his acid-wash jeans. You whine lightly when his hands leave you but you’re quickly reassured when you hear the sound of Dympna’s belt buckle being undone. You then quickly hear the sound of his zipper going down and his soft moan as he pulls his aching and leaking cock free.

His kiss becomes sloppy and unfocused as he angles his cock to run the head through your wetness. You shudder as he runs it over your sensitive clit, your hips instinctively bucking forward, your body begging to have him inside you.

It doesn’t take long for him to relent and finally push his tip inside your waiting entrance. As soon he’s part way inside you his hands move right back to your hips, guiding you down onto his cock.

“Fuck” he groans as you finally sink down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt. “I’ll tell ya, I been thinkin’ 'bout this all day, thinkin’ about you all day.”

“Yeah?” You cock your head to the side and smirk at him.

“Mmm, yeah” he hums leaning back up into your mouth.

He pushes his lips roughly against yours one last time before he leans back on the seat, letting his head fall back so he could watch you as you start to slowly fuck yourself on his cock.

Dympna sighs as he throws his head back, his fingers digging roughly into your hips as he starts to guide you on his cock. You moan as you feel the head of his cock reach that sweet spot inside you. You lean forwards to take advantage of his thrown back head, assaulting his neck with kisses and bites, savouring the taste of him whilst you could. He groans quietly and squeezes his eyes shut for a second as he takes in the sensations of your hot mouth on his skin, your warm cunt around his cock, squeezing him so good as you always did.

You work in sync together, creating a lazy and languid pace. You both just relished how good you felt together, you were in no rush to reach your climaxes. You simply wanted to enjoy the physical closeness of getting lost in each other, getting lost in the pleasure. You both watch each other’s face as they twist in pleasure, your mouths hanging open, your eyebrows knitted together. The only sounds in the quiet night are your breathy moans, Dympna’s quiet groans, and the wet sound of his cock disappearing inside you repeatedly.

Your moans start to get louder and Dympna’s grip on your hip tightens as you both start to climb closer to your climaxes. You slide your hands up his chest, moving them behind his neck, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. You arch forwards over him as he slumps even further into the seat, pushing his hips up into you.

“Fuck, ya always feel s’good baby” he pants, rolling his hips beneath you.

He curses under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut again, his fingers digging into you with a bruising force.

“Shit” he breathes as his hips jerk under you, his cock pulsating inside you as he cums.

You moan into his skin and kiss at his neck again as you ride him through his climax, your continued up and down motion on his cock pushing his cum out of you, letting it leak into his lap. One of his hands comes between you to find your clit, circling it as you continue to fuck yourself on him.

You chant his name into the crook of his neck as you finally feel the burn in your stomach reach a precipice, your climax only moments away. And Dympna could tell.

He pinches your hips to get your attention, pushing you back slightly.

“Let me look at ya, baby. Let me watch ya cum” he pleads with you.

You obey him quickly, sitting up and locking your eyes with his. His mouth hangs open to mimic yours as moans fall freely from you, your body one the verge of tipping over into pure pleasure.

“Atta girl, that’s it. Cum again for me darlin’” he whispers as he quickens his circles on your clit; his words and increased speed being the final push you needed to fall over the edge.

You whine his name, your voice cracking, as you cum around him, your pussy clenching over his slowly softening cock. A lazy smirk lands on his face as he rubs you through your climax, happily watching the pleasure ripple across your face.

“Good girl” he murmurs as you slowly stop your grinding movements, coming down from your high.

Both of his hands reach up to cup your face, bringing you down to kiss him again. You both moan quietly into the kiss, your lips moving together like a dance only the two of you knew.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. Minutes, hours, even days could’ve gone by but you didn’t care. You just revelled in his lips on yours, his softened cock still sat inside you, his warm chest pressed against yours.

After a while you finally decide to move and get cleaned up. Dympna helps clean you and him with the wet wipes he keeps in the car for this exact reason. Once you’re cleaned up and dressed again he leans back against one of the back doors, his legs stretching out across the back seat. He lets you climb into his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso and pulling your back tightly against his chest. He places a quick kiss to your cheek before he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his chin resting on your shoulder. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, just watching as the light of the morning sun slowly starts to bleed into the horizon.

“I missed ya” Dympna murmurs into the warmth of your skin.

You can’t help the butterflies that spread in your stomach and the smile that plasters your face.

“You saw me like two days ago, ya know?” You laugh softly.

“Still missed ya,” you feel him shrug behind you.

You twist around to face him, placing a soft kiss to his nose.

“I missed you too.”

Masterlist

A/N: okay this ended up being a lot softer than I intended, but I actually really love it, soft!Dympna is taking a large portion of my heart rn🥺🥴 hope you guys liked this!!🥰🖤💫

Join My Taglist // Join My Hive // Ko-Fi

#waspswidows #dympna devers #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers smut #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers headcanon #dympna devers x you #calm with horses #dympna devers x female reader

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siempre-bucky · 3 years

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I had this thot while at work yesterday

Dympna has a spit kink... hear me out

The man loves messy blowjobs more than life itself. He loves to grip your hair, forcing you down all the way down to the base of his cock. Drool coating his groin, "That's it baby. Look at ya! Drooling all over my fuckin' cock. Fuck you look so perfect."

he'll keep you down there till your mouth makes those gagging noises that are music to his ears and your fingernails are digging into the skin of his thighs

when he pulls you off, the look of the strings of spit and straight-up whimpers because of how hot you look

Dympna will let go of your hair only to stick his fingers in your mouth, "Suck em like a good little whore, yeah?"

he'll stick his fingers all the way in until you're drooling and gagging again, leaving his fingers wet

he'll drag his spit coated fingers out of your mouth, down your throat to coat your chest in your spit

your skin was glistening

"Open," he commands, his fingertips gently digging into your jaw before spitting into your open mouth

to be soft: after it's all over, he'll be so caring as he cleans you up

the warm rag trailing your skin as he presses loving kisses to your face, asking you if you enjoyed yourself.

Tagging the unimind, enjoy my loves (@waspswidows @mothdruid)

#dympna devers #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers smut #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers headcanons #calm with horses #the shadow of violence

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slut4dympna · 3 years

Note

I'm so in love with you for writing that dympna fic!! 😭💖 I hate how there's no content for him.

out here doing my part <33 have some more dympna hcs as a token of my gratitude for your praise

- okay i have several ideas for how you would meet / get together but one of my faves is this :

- your family is the second most feared locally, next to the devers, and to form a sort of alliance, they wanna marry you off to dymp

- you're pretty outraged about it at first bc hello ?? this is ur life u dont wanna just throw it all away like that ??

- but you also know how your family's business works, and you know they would do much worse to you if you refused, not to mention what the devers would do to you

- so you end up agreeing

- they allow you to meet before forcing you down the aisle, not so you can get to know each other or anything, just so its not a shock when you see one another on the big day

- at first you think hes immature

- cute, but immature

- he keeps making jokes, you keep not laughing . its awkward and hes clearly getting angry at your lack of reactions

- you meet a few more times after this, more out of your own free will, but only because you're trying to get used to the house ur gonna be living in

- you like his sisters, they're all very sweet for the most part

- some of the other family members scare you a little but you do ur best to pretend they don't

- the wedding comes, you get married, you move in, its all pretty...... meh

- but then one day dympna comes home angry. like seriously angry. some job, something went wrong, you don't know what

- hes breaking things in the kitchen, yelling

- you dont wanna go in but hes about to get to the nice china and you know somehow it'd be your fault if he breaks it

- "dympna?" your voice is soft and it stops him in his tracks

- he turns to you, even more furious, and for a moment you think hes gonna hit you

- its literally the most surprising moment of your life when turns around and bursts into tears .

- you're frozen still, briefly before you tentatively make your way over to him

- as soon as you're in reaching distance, he pulls you into his arms

- you wrap your arms around his back, rubbing in circles

- you soothe him with gentle shushes as he sobs into your neck

- things are different from then on

- you become each other's comfort, and eventually you feel the love starting to come

- he tells you more about the family business, not wanting you to feel left out

- but he also tells you that he doesnt want you involved that much

- not because he doesnt trust you but because he doesnt trust other people not to target you

i have so many ideas for this as a full fic / series soooo.. lmk if ur interested

#barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #dympna devers #dympna devers x reader #calm with horses #barry keoghan imagine #barry keoghan x you #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers x you

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mothdruid · 3 years

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Ok but imagine Dympna fucking you real good, like with your legs thrown over his shoulders so he’s hitting that spot *just* right so your eyes keep fluttering closed but he grabs your chin so you’re looking right at him and he commands you to keep your eyes locked on his or else he’ll stop 🤤🤤 I gotta take a cold shower now

this is so fucking hot.. i might just.. write... a... drabble...

Dympna groaned as he looked down at you. He loved the way you looked, folded in half with your legs up on his shoulders. His thrusts were unrelenting, making your cunt tighten around him. You tossed your head to the side and closed your eyes.

"Don't," Dympna's head came up, grabbing your jaw tightly, "Fucking look at me." You brought your gaze back to his icy blue one. His hand gripped your jaw tighter, his thrusts becoming more brutal. The head of his cock was beating on that spot inside of you, making your abdomen tighten.

"D.. Dympna!" You kept you eyes locked with his as he continued. Your toes began to curl as your legs stiffened. Your orgasm washed over you like a wave, making your body start to rock against him.

Dympna's lips curled into a devilish grin as he kept fucking you. His eyes staying with your own. He let out a groan, "I'm gonna cum for ya." You nodded fervently as you waited for him to reach his own climax.

After a few more thrusts he quickly pulled out and folded your legs against your chest. He rested his cock on top of your clit and cunt, coming on you. A little bit shot up on to your stomach as you opened your legs a tiny bit.

"Fuck, look so good covered in me." Dympna moaned while watching his cum drip down you, covering more and more of your cunt.

@siempre-bucky @waspswidows

i got a little goodie for you guys

#moth talk #abby answers #anon #dympna devers #dympna devers smut #dympna devers imagine #dympna devers drabble #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers x female reader

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causticcauses · 3 years

Text

Only Stop at Exits

Part One -> Two, Three, Four

Pairing: Dympna Devers x (gender neutral) Reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of past death, drug use/reference, abuse reference, swearing.

A/N: I’m probably gonna do another part to this, where they makeup with sex but at the moment I just wanted an angsty piece. Let me know if you liked it, I’m interested if this hit the right characterization!

Gentle and teasing, Dympna's kiss was a distracting thing, and it was hard to remember why you were up here with his mouth on yours. For a moment, you just responded to the pressure, let him slip his tongue past your lips as you arched your body into his. He hummed, amused by your neediness, and the tremor bloomed as warmth across your mouth. Another distraction. A moment later Dympna broke off. Not to give you a second to recover, no; his mouth trailed down, pressing a languid line down your neck.

Your breath caught when his hand joined his mouth, cupping your throat with a pressure equal parts possessive and protective, and it felt like if you closed your eyes you could float through the bed. Unmoored – that was how he made you feel. Like you could float, as long as he was there to ground you in your skin.

Except if you allowed this to happen, you would wake up in his arms tomorrow and remember that there were several things that could set you adrift and up shit creek without a paddle.

"Stall a sec." Dympna didn't hear your strained request at first, lips hot against your skin, and you curled your fingers through his blond hair, tugged gently. "Wait." Easy enough, Dympna let you pull him away from kissing your collarbone. When you let him go, trailing your fingers along the little cross by his eye before dropping them, he made a low grunt, half complaint, half question.

"What's'it?" he slurred, the sound dopey, and you knew it wasn't a reflection of how drunk he actually was. Dympna was trying to make you laugh, and in a different time, it would have worked. As it was, you bit at your lip, fighting the urge to look away.

"I wanna talk to you."

"Oh? I'm all ears, darlin'." So saying, he rolled off of you, propped himself up on a careless elbow, head resting on his hand. You watched the quizzical tilt of his head, the slight smirk that had been condescending years ago and now was anything but, and you hesitated. You'd grabbed his attention and he was listening to you, listening intently, in a way you hadn't entirely expected. He wasn't smashed, you knew that, but somehow you'd thought the alcohol might have softened his attention somewhat. Had you hoped for it? Maybe. Maybe that was why you'd decided to talk to him at the party, and not some other time.

After all, you'd had this conversation before. Not in the exact words you planned to say now, less direct, but same idea. And it hadn't gone well.

He sensed your hesitation, and his smirk faded slightly. "Honest to angels, love, I'm listening. What is it?" Dympna's blue eyes searched yours with an attentiveness you'd never in a thousand years thought he'd show to anyone but his sisters, and the care in them made your throat close up. There was no caution in his gaze, like he couldn’t ever imagine, let alone brace for what you planned to say.

And you suddenly knew you had to say it, you had to blurt it out or you were never going to.

"I want out, Dympna."

The effect was immediate. There may as well have been a light switch you'd just flicked off. Dympna wasn't an idiot, and he picked up what you meant well enough. The stony expression – the one he always reached for when he felt out of his depth – made that obvious.

"Out?" His voice was wrong. Pitched too high, like he'd been about to laugh but changed his mind. "What d'ya mean, out?" Abandoning his careless posture, Dympna moved to sit up fully as he spoke, pressing his bare shoulder against the bed's headboard, leaning against it like he needed the support as he watched you.

You jutted up your chin, kept your gaze steady. Didn't blink under the unrelenting pressure of his cool blue stare. "It's not hard to get, Dympna." It wasn't a good idea to take that disparaging tone, not with him, not now, but you could feel the anxiety seething under your skin and it made you sharp. Besides, him playing dumb was an asshole move. "I want out of this work, this business, whatever you wanna call it, I want out."

It was very quiet in the room. His room. Down below, you could hear the pulse of music, the pitch and flow of sloshed voices careening through several stages of drunk and disorderly. Up here, though, the silence was thick and heavy, pressing on you just as hard as his eyes were.

His eyes, suddenly very hard and very cold, chips of blue in a face gone still. It made you ache to see his expression, that rapid retreat that went hand in in hand with his movement, as he turned away, putting his shoulder to you. Blocking you out.

He still hadn't said anything, and you couldn't help the simmer of uncertainty in your voice. "Dympna? Are you–"

"Sorry, sorry." Caustic, mocking. "I was just processin', yeah? Don't think I heard you quite right, just – I didn't catch it. Say it again for me, one more time."

This was dangerous territory. You'd known that since you joined with the Devers some three years ago, ferrying drugs to pay off a debt. You'd known that a year ago, when this – whatever this was – started between you two. You'd known it several minutes back, persuading Dympna to follow you upstairs with a long kiss and a murmur. You'd known it a moment ago, too, gathering up the courage to ease his lips from your throat, seeing the sluggish, hazy warmth in his face. It had been that look – that fucking look, too affectionate by half – that made you blurt out the words instead of taking a second to set up, to prepare what you were gonna say.

The way Dympna was talking, though, in a voice suddenly distant, removed from the warmth of seconds before, made the danger more – immediate. More than it had been in a long time. You'd discussed this a couple times, more roundabout. What it would take to get out. When, even if it was possible. And he'd reacted badly to that, too.

You swallowed the nerves, or tried to. They just ended up a prickly ball in your throat. "D, I'm not saying I want to leave you or–"

"Nah, nah." He made a violent movement, brushing the words away. "Not that, darlin'. Say what you said. Exact what y'said, mind."

With a short inhale, you lifted your chin again. Your voice was quiet, but, you were proud to note, unwavering. You'd come a long way in these last years. "I want out."

"Yeah... Yeah, that's what I thought." Dympna's hand went up, ruffling at the back of his blond hair. It was an uncertain motion, an endearing one he'd never really got rid of. It didn't match his tone, all splinters and derision. "Didn't think you coulda said that, because it's so fuckin' stupid."

"Dympna!" Your stung rebuke made him drop his hand into his lap, and you noticed it was curled into a fist. A moment later he was off the bed, pacing unsteadily.

"What the fuck do you want me to say? 'Grand, ay, well and away with ya?' Is that it? 'Cause I can't fuckin' say that, y'know I can't!" He mangled the words into a cry at the end, tried to stand up straighter. More clearly, looking away from you, Dympna repeated, "I can't."

You slid yourself to the edge of the bed, planning on going to him, but Dympna stiffened and so you kept yourself sitting there. "Dympna, I'm not just – this isn't about going away."

"Isn't it?" He almost whispered the question.

It was so painful to see him look like that. With his shirt off, the gold chain wrapped around his throat and the cross hanging on his bare chest, he looked – exposed. Hard but brittle, like any second he was gonna crumble, and hate himself for it, probably. You knew Dympna, how he disliked his own emotions, how they got in the way of being the "man" he should be. His words, but his uncles' thoughts. Thoughts you'd been trying to steer him away from, but it looked liked that was all collapsing, as Dympna reached for harshness to steady himself.

More loudly now. "Isn't it? We've talked 'bout this before, 'til I'm sick of it."

That made you tense up. "Yeah, we have, and you've not listened! You just brush it off, every time I try to–"

"Like fuck I've brushed it off!" Dympna's voice jumped to a startling volume, and you flinched automatically, just another ingrained response you'd hoped you were rid of. As soon as he saw it, he cut himself off, inhaling curtly and taking a step back.

Controlled now, in the way a collar controlled one of Paudi's crazed dogs, but the emotion was still seething in his words. "I ain't brushed it off, not hardly, darlin'. But I've told you and told you, you try to get out and my uncles will see you out forever." He noticed you start to protest, and raised his hand. "Yeah, you could probably get far 'nuff away that they'd leave off you. And then..." He hesitated, and you could tell the moment he ripped his emotions out of the picture, because his voice was suddenly too light, too casual. "We'd be done. Finished. It's not hard to get, huh?"

The deliberate echo of your words resounded cruelly in the small space of his room and Dympna turned away, his hands restless as they picked along his faded jeans. You weren't sure if there was any blood left in your face – you were lightheaded enough to believe it had all sunk into your stomach.

"It doesn't have to be that way, Dympna. We could still talk, see each other on a call or something. This isn't the dark ages." Even as you said it, the desperate suggestion was falling flat. Have Dympna without having him? Keep his words but lose his fingers, ruffling idly through your hair or lightly gripping the back of your neck? Get his laugh, but only in pieces? The thought had no appeal.

Dympna responded about as negatively as your own thoughts. "I'm not 'bout to have ya off with yer man, far and away."

Fucking typical. Like you'd get with some random, even if they were a ride. You didn't know if the jealousy was an act, hiding something else, or if Dympna actually thought you'd go behind his back just 'cause there were multiple miles between you, but it made you bristle all the same.

“It wouldn’t be like that!” you protested hotly. “Besides, what if– it doesn’t have to be just me, D. You could come, or–”

“And leave my sisters in this shithole? See how long it was before my fuckin’ uncles started them in on the business? Or worse?”

That was one of the biggest sticking points, you knew. And the most immovable. Dympna wasn’t, in some ways, the bravest man, the most likely to stand up. Yet at the same time he’d walk through hell and then go deeper for his sisters. He’d even kept on after what had happened to Arm, after what Paudi had done, just to keep his sisters safe. It was a soft fact, the kind you kept your fingers curled around when he was beating someone or driving at a speed Usain Bolt might reckon unsafe.

What did that leave between the two of you, though? “They could come with,” you suggest, already knowing the arguments, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah? And how you expect me to support them? I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t want me sellin’ the stuff, and darlin’ in case you haven’t noticed, there ain’t much more in my set of skills to speak of.”

A lie, one that annoyed you for his sake and for yours. “You’re more than that! I keep telling you, you’re only half as smart as you think you are, and that still makes you near a fucking genius.” An attempt at a joke that went sour because your voice was too tense, too volatile.

You couldn’t even tell if he was amused or not; he put his back to you, running his hands aimlessly over the crap on his desk. At this angle, you could see the scars, crisscrossing his back. A mishmash of marks, some long and ropy, others just blunt spots, starting from his shoulders and going down. Grotesque in how badly they cut up the smooth expanse of his skin, in how boldly they spoke to the pain he’d been in.

Paudi hadn’t been happy with what Dympna had done – or failed to do – when it came to Arm. With the big man dead, the psychopath hadn’t had anyone else to go after, so he’d done it to his nephew, instead. It wasn’t nothing that couldn’t heal with time, and D claimed it didn’t even hurt anymore, a year and half later, but the marks were still there. You suspected they always would be. Just another thing he couldn’t escape from.

The reminder made you swallow, sorrow and pity and frustration all knotted in your throat. “D...” You stopped, searching for the words that he couldn’t just sneer away. “You deserve more than this,” you ended up saying, simply.

That made him laugh, the ugly chuckle he reserved for laughing at himself. “Dunno ‘bout that,” he said, low and reflective, and at last he turned back to you. His blue eyes had warmed – a little – from the initial freeze, but when he moved closer to you, hands out and pleading, you could already tell it wasn’t going to go where you wanted it to. “Ya don’t have to go. We’re getting things bigger, better. Soon ‘nuff, hell, you won’t even need to be runnin’ it, we’ll have enough to get some slob to do it.”

Bigger. Better. The Devers were growing their kingdom, and they’d found marijuana wasn’t the only brick they wanted to build their empire on. This piss-poor town couldn’t support that, but the Devers farm was well put to hit some of the larger areas, and so they’d started thinking, and more than thinking, about moving some other drugs.

The first time a couple months back that you’d been handed a small bag of white powder by Hector, to “nip on over and give to that tosser Byrne,” had been the first time you’d seriously thought about quitting. And when the first overdose hit Glanbeigh, first in five years, anyways, you’d made up your mind. Room and board, the amount of pay Dympna had wrangled out of his uncles, it wasn’t near worth being part of what was happening.

Your debts were almost clear, too. The money ones, anyways. “That’s the thing, Dympna,” you said quietly, not accepting his hands. “I don’t want anything to do with that.”

His eyebrows drew together, and he brought his thumb to his mouth, biting at the nail. Speaking around it, he commented, “Now there’s gratitude for you.”

You pressed your hands into the bed covers to avoid doing something more violent. “Gratitude?” you repeated, barely able to choke the words out. “Gratitude?” He tried to interrupt but it was your turn to bull over him, heat boiling in your veins. “And what the fuck do I have to be grateful for? Spending a year and a half getting worked over like a fucking dog, making no money, everything going to your uncles?”

It’d been a mistake, giving your debt to Hector. He’d even tried pushing you to doing some other shit, and Christ but you might have done it if you hadn’t started with Dympna. Paudi was a psychopath but Hector was a devil in tweed. The two deserved each other.

“It’s not like that anymore,” Dympna pointed out. “I’ve got you, darlin’, and Hector doesn’t get a say in what happens with ya.” His voice was coaxing, warm-toned paint slathered over red anger. He was good at that, good at switching gears, and sometimes you admired him for his flexibility and charisma, but not today. Today it was just another manipulation to keep you stuck here.

“Just like your uncles didn’t get a say in what happened to Fannigan? To Arm?” You said it to shock him, to jar him off that oil-slick reassurance, to remind him that he didn’t have control over this snowballing situation. You tried to tell yourself you didn’t say it to be cruel.

It was the wrong thing to say, but this whole thing was fucking wrong. Dympna’s face spasmed, a riot of... Fuck, you didn’t even know. Grief, guilt, rage, regret. All of it, storming across his face and then gone. He closed it off. Shoved it to that place that you couldn’t reach, and it was scary, a little, how mild he looked. Dympna only looked mild when the shadow of violence was on him.

“You’ve got it all figured out, yeah? You’re so fuckin’ smart, you can see it all?” He stepped closer and you had to fight the urge to quail into the bed. He didn’t do anything, though, just watched you with that unnerving stillness. When he spoke again, you thought you could hear something through that calm, some stilted emotion straining to get through, but it didn’t manage it. “Well, then... You already know how it is. I ain’t fuckin’ leaving. You wanna do it, that’s your fuckin’ business, but don’t expect no handouts from me when you’re gone.”

"So it's just like that? That's – those are my options? Be a drug mule for the rest of my life and stick with you, or fuck right off?"

"Clever cunt," he said sardonically, and if you'd had something at hand you would have thrown it at him. As it was, you lurched to your feet, hands balled at your side.

"Fuck you," you spat.

He didn't look at you when he replied. "You were about to, yeah? That part of the plan? Get me langers, all fuckin' set for the ride and then spring this shit on me?"

You flushed at that, partly from defensive anger and partly because it was true. It hadn't been fair to bring this up now, to lead him up here like you were panting for it and then suddenly veer straight sober. But – you'd thought it might be better. Like maybe, maybe, if you reminded him of what was between you two, he could... You didn't know. Let go of shit.

But he wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t. Things crystalized, then. Hardened.

“Didn’t matter when I sprang it, you weren’t gonna listen, anyways. You’re too much a coward to change anything,” you said bitterly. He snorted, but before the next insult came, you were walking away. By his bed, by him, to the door.

Maybe he was surprised, or hurt, or maybe just conflicted, but it took that long for him to respond. “Call me a coward, but I ain’t the one runnin’ away.”

“Sometimes running isn’t cowardice, Mr. Devers. Sometimes it’s just common sense. ‘Specially from a shithole like this one,” was your nasty, tired answer. You flung open his door and the noise from downstairs flooded into the room, almost physically demanding in the way it invaded the space. It smothered whatever intimacy was left between you both – if there was any.

“So– what? That’s it? You’re gone?” There it was again, that something straining to be heard under his casual note. More prominent now, it was like pleading or disbelief or loss – or maybe all three – but it wasn’t loud enough to pierce the cold clarity that had taken hold of you.

It was with vindictive pleasure, and bare grief, that you replied, “Clever cunt.”

And then you were gone. Down the stairs, through the throngs of people gathered throughout the house. A few called your name, voices slurred or sharp with their medicine of choice, but you ignored them. Your heart was beating fast, an actual pain in your chest, and your ears were straining so hard it felt like they might burst. Waiting for one voice. For just a few familiar words that might, somehow, stop this nightmare track.

The words didn’t come, and too soon, three years too late, you reached the door.

And then you were gone, leaving him behind you.

#dympna devers #calm with horses #dympna devers x reader #dympna devers imagine #barry keoghan #the shadow of violence #mine

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