#dave PLS
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taken from these 3 asks + the thoughts i was having earlier this week.
specifically w this dave bc woah
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the argument started out as something stupid. he doesn’t even remember what it was. all he knows is that he fucked up royally when he said something that absolutely shattered you. he watched your face fall, your lip start to quiver, tears welling up in your eyes. he lets you run off to your bedroom, slamming the bedroom door shut. dave knows he’s sleeping on the couch tonight, the first time ever, if he doesn’t fix this.
you two go about your day as if the other isn’t even there. dave feels sick when he looks at you cooking yourself dinner. his lips press into a thin line. he watches you take your dinner to the office to go eat alone, come back, wash your plate and put it in the dishwasher, looking up and then his eyes catch with yours. it’s just a second of a glance, but dave can see your eyes are red and puffy. he really made you cry.
he watches you mosey back to your shared bedroom as he goes to sit on that couch and eat his own meal, which proves to be futile as he has no appetite. dave covers his plate, placing it in the fridge for later and slowly walks to the master bedroom, when he hears your soft sobs from a few feet from the door.
he slowly turns the knob, flinching as the door squeaks to reveal you, curled in on yourself, facing away from him and toward the window of the master bedroom. dave slowly walks over, his presence making a depression in the bed where he slides in next to you. he starts by rubbing a hand over your shoulder and back, massaging as you sob harder now that he’s here, trying his hardest to soothe you after what’s been said.
dave moves up to press his chest to your back, big strong arms wrapping around you.
“m’ so sorry baby… so sorry. don’t know why i said that. i really don’t.” dave feels that he could cry too at this rate. he holds your shaking body, repeating words of praise to you over and over until your sobs are reduced to sniffles.
“can you look at me, hon?” he whispers to you, hand on your shoulder pulling gently for you to face him. you do so, still refusing to meet his eyes as your lips quiver and you stare at his chest. the two of you lay side by side like that, facing each other as dave brings a hand up to your cheek, whining away the tears as they continue to fall. “i love you, you know that? you’re my whole world and nothings gonna change that. i was stupid. so fucking stupid.”
you look up at him then, and his nose and cheeks have begun to turn red just as it does when he’s holding back tears. his eyes are glassy, and you’re still so unbelievably upset, but he’s truly trying everything to make this right. you lean your head down to bury your face in his chest, whispering a little “i love you too.” dave hugs you so tight, he kisses the top of your head, burying his face in your hair. his kisses move lower as he leans your head up to look at him again, kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, pulling back for a moment and then going in for a sweet kiss on your lips.
dave deepens the kiss further and you let him, pulling away for you to catch your breath while dave whispers to you: “so pretty… prettiest i’ve ever seen.” before rolling you onto your back. dave presses his body to yours, continuing to kiss you long and deep for a while longer before his lips move to your neck. you whine, bringing a hand up to the back of his head to keep him where he’s sucking bruises into your neck.
“gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. i promise. i’ll make it up to you in a million different ways,” he moves to your exposed collarbone while he tries to push your shirt up.
he gets your chest exposed, moving down to suck a nipple into his mouth and you writhe away from his mouth at the stimulation. dave holds you close and tight, not letting you get away from him as the arm that’s not wrapped around your middle works at your sleep shorts. he leaves wet, sloppy kisses down your torso, leaning up to throw his own shirt over his head.
once your sleep shorts are kicked off as well as your panties he grabs you by the calf’s and pulls you towards him as he sits on his heels. “c’mere, baby.”
he unties the bow on his pajama pants, pulling them down with his underwear to his mid thighs. his cock is hard and leaking, tip a pretty pink and his breathing is already hard and slow as he spreads your legs for him. he looks up at your pretty tear stained face, puffy eyes and lips. you’re just the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.
he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, teasing your hole before pushing in, grabbing your thighs to wrap around his waist as he leans down, pressing chest to chest with you and taking your hands in his.
“okay?” he asks hesitantly, and when he sees you give a watery smile and a nod he starts to move slow and deep, squeezing your hands tight as your legs lock around his waist. “fuck, honey, squeezing me so good. never wanna let you leave this bed…”
you mewl, whispering your own praises and apologies which dave hushes, wanting you to focus on him making you feel good. he nudges the side of your face with his nose and you know to turn so he can give you a long and deep kiss. dave’s hips stutter, beginning to move a little quicker, a little deeper, and soon you’re both gasping out short exasperated breaths as you near your orgasms.
“you gonna cum? yeah… that’s it, i gotchu. you’re okay. you can do it, come on. wanna see you cum on my cock.” you squeal as dave moves a hand down to your clit, rubbing fast tight circles and you contract around him, death grip on the hand that’s still clasped in yours as you cum for him.
“oh fuck.. look atchu… love you so much baby. never gonna let you go… oh- oh fuck!” and then dave is cumming too with a groan that’s muffled by you going in for another kiss. his hips slow to a nice roll, more tears leave your eyes as all your emotions are released, a whole day of tension and hurt that you start to let go of.
you breathe each other in, laying on each other before dave rolls off of you. he pulls the covers up and holds you close. a silent understanding that you will talk the rest of this out tomorrow. at least he doesn’t need to sleep on the couch.
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this took a week to get out i’m so sorry
#asks and replies#p’s thots(^ ^*)#metallica#dave mustaine#megadeth#dave mustaine x reader#dave mustaine smut#dave mustaine fanfiction#dave pls#pleasseeeee#i love him bad#oughhh he’s just so!!!#anyways enjoy
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Dave Jones is a treasure and he must be protected
#dave PLS#dave jones#halsin#halsin silverbough#he's just so unhinged i love it so much#bg3#baldur's gate 3#i bet he's really adorably socially awkward but is just the nicest guy youve ever met
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Good Soldiers - Short Fan Animation
youtube
Guys look what I found
#commander cody#codywan#dave where is he#dave what have you done with my boy#dave tell us pls#Youtube
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happy lesbian visibility week T4T BUTCH4BUTCH LESBIAN OTASUNE BLAST
#dave and hal my sillies my buddies#also as per usual pls use she/her for snavid THANKS!!!!!!!!!!!#leileilei#lei art#metal gear#metal gear solid#otasune#snotacon#solid snake#otacon#hal emmerich
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I spent the whole night on it, I think it was worth it.
#dave dsaf#dayshift at freddy's 3#dayshift at freddys#dsaf jack kennedy#jack kennedy#dsaf dave miller#dave miller dsaf#davetrap#dsaf davetrap#dsaf 3#davesport#polska gurom#ten fanart doprowadził mnie do załamania pls#reblogs!
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DERSE ROYALTY AU LINEUP!!!! All the Strilondes are siblings in this AU, and are princes and princesses. Derse and Prospit are warring countries, one of which uses magic to fight (Prospit) and the other relies on vaguely industrial machinery (Derse). Magic is outlawed in Derse. I’ll give more info if wanted!
I tried to strike a balance between extravagance and practicality depending on personalities. Dirk and Rose’s clothing are the most embellished, but while Roxy and Dave’s outifts may seem plain, the dye used to get such vivid colors would probably be horrifically expensive.
Dirk: He is the oldest, and therefore the first in line for the throne. I tried to show how he is trying to keep up put-together appearances, but is still mainly focused on combat-readiness. Notice the visible steel toes on his boots! He would also probably carry his sword around at his hip.
Roxy: Her outfit is one of the most practical for plot reasons (not to be divulged yet). She prioretizes outdoor-preparedness, with a hood for harsher weather. When in the palace, she would probably enjoy wearing much fancier, flouncy attire, like fluttery dresses.
Rose: The most prim and proper, even more than Dirk, and the least practical. She would absolutely love showing off her fashion, and doesn’t need much movement as her work and/or hobbies would likely be academic in nature. I added pearls to her bodice because they make me think of sea creatures!
Dave: He barely wears any embellishment on his clothes, and is usually out on the training grounds with the knights. Hence the sturdy, well-made leathers. He is following Dirk’s combat-driven ways, just with less pressure from outside forces.
#digitalart#pls ask questions#PLEASE#i have Lore#and family drama#homestuck drawing#homestuck art#homestuck fanfic#homestuck fanart#homestuck fanfiction#homestuck#ao3#ao3 fanfic#dirk strider#dave strider#roxy lalonde#rose lalonde#procreate#digital drawing#procreate drawing#procreate art#drawing#dirk strider fanart#dave strider fanart#roxy lalonde fanart#rose lalonde fanart#derse/prospit royalty au#derse dreamer
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The amount of money I would give to Dave Filoni to write a scene where Sabine and shin just sit and talk
#wolfwren#shin hati#sabine wren#sabine x shin#ahsoka series#ahsoka#please stop fighting and just talk ffs#I would give the whole $20 I have in my bank account Dave pls
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DAVE: you guys dont know how much south park and adult animated sitcoms hurt me. my bro has watched adult animated sitcoms all day every day for half my life and everything he says is a family guy reference or something. i came out to him as trans and he literally says like "well you know on family guy they at first had a hard time with this kind of thing but later they came around. that was a good lesson" its like his religion
JUNE: somehow, the weirdest aspect of this is that watching family guy made your brother LESS transphobic.
#submission#PLEASHGE PLEASE PLEAS#NOOOO PL#AUAUHGAGHHGG#god i have residual cringe over someone i used to hang out with#fucking played family guy clips in the background whenever we hung out#it was so. just. dude why . play literally anything else#whatever theyre gone im safe forever from peter griffin#......nah actually they were an avid bro strider enjoyer#yeah this makes exact sense#homestuck#incorrect homestuck quotes#incorrect quotes#mod dave#dave strider#june egbert#john egbert#bro strider
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i can never find enough pics of him in black leather....
#pls i need more of thjis#the DRIP bro#its 10pm i can still post this#i wouldnt miss a thursdav for the world ending#megadeth#dave mustaine#thrash metal#thursdave#pinterest#90s metal#90s thrash#metal music#metal band#80s thrash#heavy metal
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DSAF JUMPSCARE WOOO
Some extras too (including fnaf ones)
This started off as just Dave, Jack, and Henry but I had a lil too much fun with it LMAO
Have you guys noticed that I like too many things...
#dsaf#dsaf dave#dsaf jack#dsaf henry#dsaf art#fnaf#william afton#phone dude#henry emily#dumb lil things#my art#pls dont flop#godred
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TINY strilonde time!! lineart under cut so you can color it in with your hcs B)!
#pls tag me if you color it i wanna see!! you can change hairstyles or anything else you see fit#homestuck#homestuck fanart#hom3stuck#homestuck doodles#dave strider#hs dave#dirk strider#hs dirk#rose lalonde#hs rose#roxy lalonde#hs roxy#strilondes
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The dsaf brainrot is so real rn
I am so hyperfixated on that game like damn
:3
#art#fanart#digital art#dsaf#dsaf dave#dsaf fanart#dsaf art#i love him plsssss#dave miller#he is so babygirl#shitpost#art shitpost#dsaf fandom pls accept me <3#i love this game
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Goddamnit i literally cannot stop i cant stop
#digital art#my art#Dsaf#dsaf art#dsaf jack#dsaf dave#davesport#Dave miller#jack kennedy#Pls im going bonkers
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YOUR POST ABOUT BAD BOY!DAVE MADE ME FERAL... LIKE IK THE SHELTERED GIRL TROPE IS OVER USES BUT IMAGINE HIM GUIDING YOU THROUGH YOUR FIRST ORGASM AND BEING SO GENTAL WITH YOU... HIM MOUTHING YOU FROM OUTSIDE YOUR PRETTY PINK PANTIES TO GET YOU READY FOR HIM 🫶🫶🤭🤭🤭 HIM TAKING YOUR VIRGINITY IS SO HOT TO ME I NEED HELP. 🙏🙏🙏
honestly i love bad boy!dave and im so so happy that a lot of you guys seem to like it too!! like i lowkey want to flesh out a whole au about it omg.
this scenario though!!! dave would fucking ruin you for anyone else. he wouldn't want anyone else to touch you, and by god he's gonna fuck you so good you'll be forced to marry him just for the sex alone lmao. he's so obsessed with you.
i imagine he'd have snuck into your bedroom through your window, like he always does because your parents hate him (which makes him want to stay with you for the rest of his life even more, as a "fuck you" to them). and the two of you are sharing kisses, until things get a little more heated. you're whining underneath him, although for what, you're not exactly sure. all you know is that you feel something in between your legs. honestly, it's something that you feel a lot whenever dave is around, but you're too embarrassed to say anything about it.
dave, however, always knows whenever he's made you wet. you start whining, getting a little antsy, maybe trying to press yourself to him, and he thinks it's adorable. especially because he can tell that you're unaware of your actions. usually, he can hold off, take care of himself in the bathroom once you fall asleep, but tonight, he decides to make you his. he starts kissing down your neck, and pushes his warm hands up your pajama top.
"can i show you somethin, baby?" he asks between kisses. he pulls away to look you in your eyes, and you nod gently. he grins wolfishly, and starts trailing kisses down your stomach, leading toward your heat. as he gets closer and closer, you begin to squirm even more.
"be a good girl and stay still for me." he whispers, stilling your hips with his hands. he leans down and plants a kiss in-between your legs, right on top of the bow on your pink panties.
"lemme make you feel good, yeah?" he says, and begins mouthing kisses over your clothed cunt. eventually, your panties are soaked through, a combination of your arousal and his spit covering the material. he's barely touched you yet, and you're a whining mess. your whining turns into full-on moaning when he drags your panties to the side, and slowly inserts a finger into your cunt as he continues mouthing at your now exposed clit.
your fingers card through his hair, bunching it up in your hands as you squeal and moan, and dave, despite loving your reactions, pulls away from you momentarily. before you can whine about the loss of contact, he takes off his jacket and places it over your mouth.
"don't wanna wake up dear old mom and dad, huh baby? what would they think of you like this? squealin', all 'cause my tongue's on your pussy." he smirks as you hide your embarrassed face in his jacket. the embarrassment soon fades away though, as he picks up where he left off, slowly stretching out your cunt on his fingers and lapping at your clit with his tongue. it doesn't take long for your tummy to start feeling... funny. its something you've never felt before.
"d-davie, i feel f-funny," you stutter, the weird feeling only intensifying. instead of slowing down, like you thought he would, dave instead only speeds up his actions, sucking your clit harder and plunging his fingers in deeper. before you know it, you're cumming hard on his face and fingers. your brain is all fuzzed out, and as you're coming down from your high, you feel dave's weight on top of you. you look up at him, and his face is flushed, his lips are pink and swollen, and he's almost out of breath himself.
"i wanna make you do that again, on my cock this time, okay pretty girl? think you can handle that for me?"
#this scenario lowkey turned into a fic??#but i regret nothing#ily bad boy! dave <33#may or may not be my new dave hyperfixation#pls send in more asks about bad boy! dave#or alternatively dilf! dave#dave mustaine#dave mustaine smut#dave mustaine x reader#dave mustaine fanfiction#megadeth#megadeth x reader#megadeth smut#megadeth fanfiction#asks#bad boy! dave
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The Mess of Us
A/N: i have no excuse honestly. I've imprinted on David York for reasons unfathomable to my own brain. This is my attempt at giving him a redemption arc? A softer backstory? My heart and soul? Who knows.
Warnings: uhhhh lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics. (Also: english is not my first language and im faking being a writer but i think this came out okay??? Pls be kind he's my lil babie!!)
Summary: I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means
Taglist: @fuckyeahdindjarin cause i wouldn't be writing without you; @chronically-ghosted thank u to listening to me cry about Dave, and my writing, and myself - i owe u my life; @wannab-urs you absolute maniac i adore u; @timelordfreya u were so kind on the accompanying piece for this i hope you like this too <3
David York
You've known that name for a long time. Stayed with the man that inhabits it even longer. He goes by Dave now. Lives in a suburban home. Has two daughters. An "office job". A respectable man. A good man. A little misguided perhaps. A little bit more jaded than he used to be. More broken than you remember. The light in his eyes all but snuffed out. But a good man.
He was always a good man.
Even when he was no longer yours.
Even when he was no longer David.
****
David York and his sunshine. Neighbours. Best friends. Light of each others lives.
You're two halves of one whole in a way that makes no sense from the outside, but when you tread close enough you can pinpoint the exact strands that join your soul to his. The way his heart is an exact mirror to yours. The way your smile reflects the sun in his eyes and his warmth leaves you feeling more loved than any being in the entire universe. You'd stumbled across him, buried between the pages of a book twice the size of his head, and you thought: Oh God. It's you. It's going to be you. And you decided you'd never let him go.
Until he decided to leave.
He's so excited when he gets the call. When he makes his plans and packs his bags. When he tells you all about the good he's going to do, the hero he's going to become.
"I'll be back soon sunshine. You won't even know I'm gone."
You try to convince him to stay. With everything you've got in you. All your jokes, all your warmth, all your schemes. When that fails you give him your heart. Your tears. Explain that you can't live without him. That he can't expect you to live without him and not fall apart at the seams because he's the thread that holds you together. And when you see the anguish on his face at your confession, you revel a little because you think you've won. He's going to stay for you because of course he is. He's your David. He cups your cheeks in his hands. Lips meet your forehead as his words break your heart:
"I'm sorry sunshine. You know I have to go. I have to do this. You know."
So you wipe off your tears and you smile. Because that's what you're supposed to do for a friend and that's what you do for him. Give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tell him to be safe.
"Don't get your butt kicked too much David. I need you back in one piece."
And that's the first time David York turns his back on your smile.
****
You wait for him. Like the inexplicable fool you are. Wander aimlessly in the streets around your childhood home like a spirit too tired to haunt anyone but itself. Waiting for him to come back and spark you alive again. Awakening for the few weeks of leave he has before reverting to your state of nothingness the minute the door closes behind him. Flitting like a ghost of yourself, nothing tethering you to this place, but still incapable of moving on without him.
Because he was David York. Your best friend.
Your good man. Your solid rock.
Until he wasn't.
Until he left.
****
You learn to make your way without him. Stumble, fall and scrape your knees more than once, without him by your side clucking and fussing like the mother hen he was. Without him to hold you up and bring you close:
"You’ve got to be careful honey. I can't be losing my sunshine."
You find a purpose and make your stand into the big bad world but all of it feels hollow without him by your side. You learn to stitch people up, bandage their wounds, hold bleeding skin in place and snap broken bones back together again. He laughs when he finds out, equal parts amused and proud.
"Looks like you became the anti-Dave sunshine."
And you smile for him, because of course you do. You don't tell him that everything you're learning, you're learning because of him. Because of the sheer wall of terror that's settled in your spine since the moment he walked away. Because of the David that comes to you in your dreams. The one that crumbles in front of you; broken and damaged and begging for help. The one you're trying so hard to save.
You may be his sunshine, but he was always your sun, and you'll protect him, even if he doesn't want you to.
****
The David that comes to you now is not yours. He's an off brand version of himself. A cheap copy. An imposter that calls himself Dave and smirks in a way that makes your skin crawl. He wears Davids skin but has none of his warmth. The sunshine in his smile is replaced by an ice cold sharpness and you hate that shivers it sends down your spine. His eyes have lost most of the humour they used to have, and when he hugs you he lets go a little too soon. A little too fractured, a little too cold. You hold on; assessing, caring, and wondering. Go to ask but he shakes his head; the look in his eyes silencing your questions before the words can form on your lips. The worry in your heart worsens.
When he walks you home you try again but he anticipates it. Like the predator he is now, he sees your strike coming, and retaliates in the one way he knows will force your silence. He kisses you. Hot and deep. Steals the air from your lungs and the words from your brain. Renders you shocked. When you open your eyes it's your David staring back again and your relieved smile has him pushing into you again. He kisses you until you're breathless. Again, and again, and again, until all your worries are dripping unvoiced at your feet and all your questions have been sucked into the air in his lungs.
You don't fall into each other as much as you attack. The culmination of years of circling each other and it all comes down to this. Mouths open, teeth clashing like you're trying to make your way into each others souls. His hands grab you so desperately, so fervently, that you wonder how he hasn't moulded you into his own chest yet. Your nails scratching at him like you're trying to carve a home in his bones. You’re trying to tear pieces of each other apart. Him, so he may take you with him and you, so you never have to watch him leave again. You devour every inch of him so reverently that the taste of him may remain embedded in your tongue forever. And he carves his way into you, soothing an emptiness that only ever craved him. Pounding in like he's trying to break you open and consume the light within. You cling to each other in the aftermath, breathless, sated and smiling, and you remember placing a kiss on his heart right before you drift off in his embrace.
You should've known, in retrospect, that that was as good as it was ever going to get.
He leaves you in an empty bed. Runs away before the dawn breaks like the consequences of what you both did are too ugly to be faced in the light of day. You turn the apartment upside down looking for one note, one glimpse, one hint of him that's not mottled on your skin and going to be torn away by the cruel hands of time.
You take the dismissal for what it is when you don't find one.
****
He comes back broken. Purple shadows under his eyes, a split lip and a wince that breaks you when you go to hug him. The storm breaks and you lunge. Too strung out to keep going like this any longer and too frazzled by thoughts of "what if it was worse" to think about the consequences of breaking your silence.
Your fists pound against the rock hard of his chest. The place that used to be your solace, your comfort, your home. Where you'd set your head too many times to count and where all your dreams ever went to rest. And they've turned it to stone, moulded him into a machine, changed him into something he's not.
"You're not a fucking hero David. You're not. And I'm asking you to stop trying to be one. I'm asking you to stop this self sacrificial bullshit and come back. Come home. You don't need to be a hero. You just need to be alive. I need you alive dammit! Why can't you see how much I need you?"
Your voice falters and cracks. It's out there now, the pieces of your heart; ugly, tattered and split open in front of him. Waiting for his judgement, for his grace. His face twists into a grimace, and you turn your head before he can see the tears fall. You don't need his apologies. His empty words and false promises of how nothing will ever happen to him, because it will, you know it will. So you hold up a hand before he can begin.
"It's okay. I get it. This is your life now, right? So will you forgive me then, if I can't stand around watching you try to kill yourself and wait for the day you inevitably succeed?"
Something in his eyes breaks at your words, and something in your heart does when he gathers you in his arms. The kiss on your temple feels like a goodbye. To your one solace, your one crutch and the only friend you ever had. And you know this goodbye will haunt you forever.
That's the one time you turn your back on David York.
****
He comes back with an extra sparkle in his eyes. Pleads and begs his way into your good graces and you indulge him because that's what you do for David. His smile has never been brighter. He may call you sunshine but he has always been your shining light, your beacon, the lighthouse you turn to.
But then he turns away. And in a split second, your world tilts on it's axis.
Carol.
Her name is Carol. Perfectly normal. Perfectly sweet. Perfectly perfect. He's got his hand in her hand and you don't understand. You can't. You refuse. Except.... David. He looks so happy. So content. Looks at her with all the devotion you've only ever given him, and all the love you wish he could've given you.
"What do think sunshine? I think she may be the one."
You smile. Because that's what you always do for David. You smile. It's an ugly thing. Fractured. Broken. He notices because of course he does. You've never been able to hide from him, ingrained as he is into your very soul. His smile falters and his eyes fill with sorrow and regret. Apologies for all he could never be and all the regret he has about it.
"You did good York. You'll be great together."
He flinches. He has only ever been David to you. He knows he has broken something irreparable. Opens his mouth to fix it. To swallow something back, say something else instead. Change the words, the letters, the combinations of decisions that led you both to this very moment. Something to keep you whole but the parts he shattered, however unwittingly, are already crumbling to dust in front of him. He closes his mouth. Swallows whatever lingered at the back of his throat. You smile at each other as you walk away. Him with her hand in his. You with the cloud of pain that comes from finally accepting the bitter truth for what it is.
He's not yours. Not anymore. Never will be again.
You never call him David again.
***
You miss him. Of course you do. Running from him was like running from a part of yourself; impossible, regretful and pointless. You were intwined into each other too thoroughly for there to ever be a clean cut through. You couldn't really walk away from him completely no matter what the distance on a map points out.
You know he'll call when he comes back again. He does. Shows up at the threshold of your sanity and the hardest thing you've ever done is ignore his voice when it calls to you. Voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. You listen to every single one but you can't call him back. His voice is your kryptonite. You'd walk back the distance if only you could but some tattered remnants of your self esteem hold you back. The last one comes with a letter in the mail. The glossy embellished card reminds you of the reason you walked away. The reason you could never go back. He pleads over static and tinny phone lines:
"Come on sunshine. I need you there. I'm sorry. I'm so s-. Please. I- "
Silence for a few minutes before the line cuts off. Typical of you both. To never say what you want and yet be assured the other knows exactly what you mean. He probably knows too. That you can't bear to see someone else's name next to his. The thought makes you nauseous; angry in a way that scares you, an evil coiling restless being inside of you, threatening to do as he asks. Go over there and scream in his face. The audactiy of this man to say he needs you when all you ever wanted was for him to pick you. Over the chip on his shoulder, the gun in his hand, the name on that card. Choose you. Love you. But you can't do any of that. You can't stand by his side and smile as he walks away with another either.
His only mercy is that he doesn't show up at your doorstep when you both know he could and you wouldn't be able to close the door in his face. Not him. Never him.
You throw the card away without opening it.
He forgives you.
But he never calls again.
***
Months turn to years and David York turns from a stabbing ache into a memory and then a ghost. He haunts you initially, at every turn, but slowly, over the years, the voice in your head softens down. He vanishes into the fog that lingers at the back of your mind and you stop looking over your shoulder for him to come back. You left him so suddenly, so abruptly, that you'd torn off pieces of yourself too. But time heals those wounds and you gradually learn to carry on as half of your bleeding heart slowly scabs and scars over.
You carve out a content little place for yourself, in a tiny corner of the world as you finally learn to love the reflection in your mirror. There's grey in your hair now. Wrinkles in your skin and hands hardened over from a life lived serving others. Saving who you can, when you can. A melody on your lips as you collect the parcels from your mailbox. Cocoa and bitter coffee long since mask the taste of his name on your breath.
There's a knock at your door and you flit to open it. Your smile, a pale imitation of what it used to be, plastered on, as you brace yourself to greet a well meaning neighbour or two. It falls quicker than lightning at the sight that greets you instead.
A man wavers at your doorstep. Unfamiliar in his familiarity. The ghost of a memory of a love never forgotten. Dripping crimson over the smiley face on your welcome mat. A haphazard bandage concealing half his face. One hand clearly broken. Arm bent at an angle too sharp to be natural. Angry streaks of purple and blue dancing around all visible patches of skin and he's trying to be nonchalant about the way he's favouring his right leg but failing miserably. Wheezing a breath that you know speaks of atleast one, if not several, broken ribs. And yet, despite all the damage and destruction and sheer agonizing pain he's no doubt in, the man smiles. Full and bright and warm.
"Hey sunshine."
And you reply.
A gasp. A plea. A promise.
David.
****
#david york x reader#dave york x reader#raven writes#(again)#(somebody stop me already)#ok so this is quite literally my heart in a fic so PLS be kind#off u go bby#raven on her david york agenda#yeeting into the void and running away
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