#deckard-shaw

FUCKING YES

super fun. would you write for Brixton/Deckard at all? and if so, perhaps #5 for them?

#5 Run in the shadows, damn your love, damn your lies (prompt list found here)

“It’s you and me,” Brixton used to say.

When Shaw lets himself indulge in his darkest moments, he can still feel Brixton’s fingers against the vulnerable skin of his neck, holding him in place, Brixton’s breath hot and wet on his cheek, foreheads pressed close, his voice insistent and intimate as he spoke secrets.

Shaw had never had anything as easy as that before, or after.

Brixton, anticipating Shaw’s next move, his body wordlessly fluid and in sync with Shaw. Brixton touching him, never faltering as his fingers made homes in the hallows of Shaw’s body. Brixton laughing, warm and welcome, the answering beat after Shaw’s insults landed. Brixton, fitting himself into the spaces of Shaw’s life that he hadn't realized were waiting to be filled.

They were partners, first, always.

Until they were more.

Until they weren’t.

Deckard Shaw was a lot of things - impulsive, ruthless, perversely irritable, in the right circumstances one could even call him melodramatic. But he’d never been weak before. Not until Brixton had dug a hole in him so deep that Shaw hadn’t felt it until he was no longer there.

“It’s you and me,” Brixton had said, mouth lifting to the right in a half snarl, half smirk. “You think we’ll ever live up to our true potential here.” He gestured to the bodies at his feet - men they had trained and fought and survived with. Men they were supposed to protect.

“We’re better than this,” he had said. “You’re better than this.” In spite of, or because of, the blood smeared across his palms, the sharp scent of gunpowder on his skin, the manic glint in his eye. This was the man Shaw knew, loved, killed for.

He knew he was capable of much worse, if only Brixton had asked the right question.

Instead, he’d put three bullets in Brixton that night - one for every year they’d been partners. Two in the chest, one right between the eyes. Just like they’d been taught; just like Brixton knew he would.

They were spots on Brixton’s body that Shaw had once pressed his lips to with a reverence most swore only to their gods. Devotion never held power over Shaw before Brixton touched him.

I literally give up writing here and now ‘cause I’ll never be as good as ya’ll lmao. (just kidding. but seriously this is AMAZING THANK YOU SO MUCH. *chef’s kiss*)

I have no idea what this is about, but I'm very happy for you, haha

your support is so appreciated at this time <3

sorry you’ve been cooped up and going insane, but glad to have you back, haha. I’m actually home on mandatory quarantine waiting for my corona test results because I have a cold, so been doing that for the last week. the results are taking forever. :(

glad you’re back friend! <3

thank you!! I missed y’all. it was an unintended break but I’ve been slowly going crazy being all cooped up so I figured I needed to make my triumphant return